Because I watch the silly post-Edwardian soap opera known as Downton Abbey, in which all the opulent grand estates and posh London residences have names, it occurred to me the other day that my family’s home should have a name. It’s an unremarkable concrete block 3/2 that was built in 1977, but why shouldn’t it have a name?
I shared this thought with the mister, and without hesitation, he said, “Cork Haven,” which is perfect. So henceforth, I will refer to my home by its proper appellation. Just so you know.
I am back at Cork Haven after living out of a suitcase for a month while attending to my mom during her final illness. I just wanted to say how incredibly touched I was and continue to be by your kind condolences and the wisdom you shared here and here the other day. It comforted me when I sorely needed comforting, and I am more grateful than I can express.
With that said, please share the name of your abode, or create one now to share. The 1% may have all the money and grand estates, but names are free, so there’s no reason they should get to bogart that too.
Or talk about whatever, open-thread style.[X-posted at Rumproast]
Kick your shoes off. Stay a while.
Cork Haven it shall be. And its residents rock.
Thinking of you, Betty Cracker.
In Wales pretty much every house (outside cities) has a name instead of a proper address. I thought this was prosaic and charming until I realized that the ambulances and fire trucks had to have a place to go when there is an alarm.
Still, the names, especially in Welsh, are amazing.
Maybe Cole can do this for his house, I’ll find out how to say “large fellow who keeps animals” in Welsh.
My grandparents lived in a rented house named Thralekill when my mother was a baby. It was a small farmhouse in the Ozarks, named after the owner. Grandpa went bust farming there.
It was torn down in the 1980s.
our house is “the burden”
When our kids were smaller we called our place Screaming Pines. LOL
When I was a lad I dubbed our house “Brookhill” after the home towns of my parents (Brooklyn and Half Hollow Hills, NY) it took a LONG time but it stuck thanks to the fact that every individual person has their own phone number now and different places they call ‘home’
@JoyousMN: Hahaha! That’s awesome! We could’ve called ours “Sulking Palms” since we’ve got a teenager in residence, but we’re hoping that’s a temporary state.
I shall call my grand estate “Serenity.” Or maybe “River View.”
I We have an irrigation run-off canal behind our house. About 20 feet across and 4 feet deep, a couple of hundred yards long.
I had thought about “Serene Flow” but that sounds too much like a feminine hygiene product.
Perhaps Cole’s residence should be Subaru’s Rest
While our New York apartment is unremarkably anonymous, we named our summer
palace mansion houseretreat “Millstone Manor”. Yes, we cribbed the name, but it fits…..
I like that idea. My apartment doesn’t have a name right now. I’ll have to think about it for a while and decide on something.
@PurpleGirl: How about “No Acres.”
Have been thinking of you, Betty, and know you’re glad to be home after such a difficult few weeks. I hope it’s okay to ask how your father-in-law is doing — I seem to recall that he was taken ill at almost the same moment as your mom.
As for abode names, I’ve lived in rental apartments or townhouses pretty much my entire adult life, accompanied by many, increasingly many, thousands of books. Since they tend very quickly to overflow the available shelf space and end up in stacks on the floor, I have long called my home (wherever it may be) “Bookhenge.”
Very happy that you are back and in such good spirits. My sad little estate will always be known as “Clutter Castle”.
Hard to name apartments, we always refer to family homes by their street names. Have been trying to come up with a name for some acreage in Norcal. Someone started using LotR locations for campsites, but thinking that is a bit lame.
After three years of heroic but largely futile efforts to beat back the overgrowth of wild blackberry bushes all tangled in with honeysuckle, kudzu, and poison ivy, we named our little Tennessee house Thornhaven.
Good to have you back, Betty.
I have no idea what to call this place. Where Ikea Comes to Shag Like Bunnies, maybe?
I can see mountains from my window in the winter, so I will call my current abode, Mountain View.
Tone in DC
I lived in a 16 story apartment building in Alexandria years ago. Place was a hole, mostly due to the tenants and their general malfeasance, indifference, and a rather high level of st00pid:
noise at all hours
eight people crammed into a two bedroom unit, among them children in diapers
said folks were a bit like the Honey Boo Boo show denizens, and they attempted to wash said disposable diapers in the damn washing machines
packages stolen from in front of my door
bored kids throwing rocks in the parking lot (they took out a window or three)
If James Bond’s old house is Skyfall, then that 16 story is Skyfail.
@BGinCHI: Yeah. I had a friend who lived in England, whose address was “The Cottage on The Street”. It seemed a fairly nebulous kind of address, but he got his mail. I guess there was only one cottage, or at least it was the cottage that every was talking about.
I live in Posteggio Vista.
Good to see you again, Betty. And Cork Heaven sounds like a wonderful name. I would have gone with something with “wine foil” in the name for you, but corks work, too.
As for our home, Dog Fluff Manor. It’s a big house (way too big for just us), the dogs seem to think they own it and their “fluff” is everywhere no matter how often I vacuum.
When our kittehs were under quarantine for rabies our place was alCATraz, but I guess we should come up with something new.
What a great idea. I have a little condo filled with cats (certified Crazy Cat Lady, y’all). I think I’ll call my place ‘Whisker Heights.’ It’s better than ‘Swampland Park,’ which is what I have nearby or ‘Litter Box Lane.’
@BGinCHI: According to Google Translate: “Cyd mawr sy’n cadw anifeiliaid.”
Being of Welsh extraction myself, I thought about naming my place with a Welsh name and came up with “Pumed House ar y Chwith” — Fifth House on the Left.
Betty: I wish you peace and rest and togetherness for you and yours.
@opiejeanne: Thralekill is such a great name. It belongs in Game of Thrones. We lived in two rented houses when I was a little girl, they were right next to each other near the beach on Fire Island. One was called Lemon Drop and the other was called Orange Pop. I thought that was the coolest thing ever.
Crack Haven? Whatever, Betty.
Mary Jane Leach
I live and own a big old brick church that I’ve named the Brick Elephant.
Villago Delenda Est
“Cork Haven” is pretty good, but did you even consider “Stately Cracker Manor”? It comes with a batcave, you know!
Sending good thoughts yr way Betty.
We live in Casa Del Dingo. Some neighbors referred to us as “The house with the dingo” a while back. He’s only part dingo but it stuck. No babies have been eaten, fyi.
As a kid, we had a country house with a thatched roof that was called Little Crawley. I loved that place; it was the paragon of an english country cottage – it even had a thatched roof. I wish I could have afforded to buy it from my mom when she sold it a few years ago.
Where the sun don’t shine, because we have those solar screens. Yeah, that’s it.
God, it really does.
Villa of Reduced Circumstances
(h/t to Alexander McCall Smith)
@BGinCHI: If I remember correctly, the UK geocoding system based off postcodes and doesn’t use street centerline interpolation for estimating coordinates but starts with the postcode coordinates (and their postcodes are smaller), so once digitized, they might actually be better off. Areas in the US are getting rooftop geocoding now (and ZIP+4 coords are small) so that’s good, but interpolated street centerline coords in rural areas tend to be dodgy. Luckily, once you get to the right road and blockface, the human brain can usually handle it, and often can handle the first bit as it has for a good long time given practice and motivation.
For some reason, my home has become known to a few as The Flair and that name follows me about as I move. might have to come up with something less peripatetic for the USPS although having both could eventually work (sort of land-line v. permanent cell-phone numbers only suitable for boxes).
I’d like to steal me some Chuck Daniels and call me casa the “Dew Drop Inn”.
Maybe “Püśšÿ Galore”?
It comforted me when I sorely needed comforting, and I am more grateful than I can express.
Lemme join everybody else in saying I’m sorry about your mom. Not much to say there, as there isn’t much that makes it unlossy.
With that said, please share the name of your abode, or create one now to share.
Given the crappy construction, I dub this here domicile Toybox.
[‘Demondog certainly thinks of it that way.’]
@BGinCHI: Thanks for the thought. But the complex I live in has 13 acres. Maybe Sky Terrace — I’m on the 17th floor and I have a terrace. Or Sun View — again, being on the 17th floor and having south-southwest exposure with buildings immediately near me. Such a decision.
I always wanted to put a stone pig (instead of a lion) in front of my house and call the house Stone Pig. However, I haven’t found a language where that sounds good. I may have to re-think my plan
That reminds me, when my mother and younger sister were living together, my sister lost her damn mind and decided to get chickens. And a peacock… And she wanted a cow but since they lived in the suburbs, she couldn’t get away with that. I started calling their place, “La Casa de Pollo Loco.”
Also, I’m sorry I didn’t say this before, Betty, but my condolences. Sending good thoughts to you and your family.
Be sure to start using that in snail mail addressing. Then after a while, drop the street number.
Shadow Shack was typically only occupied for three weeks in summer. The alternate name was Busy Beavers.
i call my house ‘Spiderland’.
My wife and I blended our last names to call our home Cozydell. A ceramic floral circle displays the name at our front door.
Condolences, Betty, on the loss of your mom. Mr. Thang and I call our ever so humble abode The House of Four Dogs, even though we now have only three. I’ve been trying to persuade him that we need another rescue but not having any luck, so far.
Thanks, I needed that.
Chickens aren’t loco! Chickens are great! We have several, and there’s nothing like fresh eggs.
We also had a cow for a while, but we sold him. While he was ours, his name was Elmer Fuddrucker.
@FoxinSocks: Ah! Nearly but not quite neighbors to my parents that had peacocks and a pig — or maybe the peacock came from one house further on . . . (cows were definitely other side of the street so it was clearly a neighborhood mania). House with the pig was known as The Taco Palace for unrelated reasons
single, male home owner here: DustMite Manor. Where a sneeze is the same as a hearty ‘Hello!’
I’ve referred to my little 1100 sq. foot townhouse as “The Fur Palace” quite frequently.
Between the cat and the particularly furry dog and my inherent tolerance of it, I’ve lost the War on Pet Hair.
Cork Haven? Now that’s a drawing I have to do.
I name this virtual space where we all gather almost everyday, Tunchland.
Comrade Colette Collaboratrice
We occupy the Villa Elicenzo, a namesmush of husband’s and my names. Previous abodes included the Hotel Elicenzo (a Paris apartment always swarmed by guests) and the Rat Farm, a horrid, dirty, vermin-infested apartment in pre-gentrified Adams-Morgan, Washington, DC. I didn’t name anything in the intervening years. My extended family does actually own a named (although perfectly ordinary small-town) house, but the name is a dreadful pun on our distinctive, weirdly-spelled last name.
Just One More Canuck
Until I can retire back to Victoria, I will live in “Victoria East”
I should’ve worded that statement more carefully. Usually chickens are great. It’s just that my sister is insane, and didn’t do her research before deciding she wanted to get back to nature. Because of how she placed the chicken feed, rats soon infested the backyard. My sister spent the first month insisting the chickenfeed had nothing to do with it. Then she came up with more and more elaborate traps to try and kill the rats, who were all, “Ha ha, sucka, can’t kill a rat!”
Of course, after 6 months, she got bored of the chickens and stopped caring for them, which is what she always does. Luckily, Mom stepped in and looked after them until they could find a new home. So maybe I should’ve called the house, “La Casa de Hermana Loco.”
WHY. W—–‘s Horse Yard.
I usually just call my efficiency apartment Chez JGabriel, at least her on BJ – but I suppose Bookman Studio or Forlorn Hovel would be more accurately descriptive. I can’t really decide between the two.
Villago Delenda Est
My house would have to be named ‘Deferred Maintenance Place’ given I can’t afford the cosmetic repairs I should be making.
@Mustang Bobby: I love it. Cole should definitely do that. Although in WV he might get labeled as a witch.
Trying to decide between Catnip Cottage (as my own and other local cats visit the garden for catmint &/or nip) and Pughaven (for the canine resident).
Some whatever: this week, I have seen Philomena and Saving Mr. Banks. The week before, Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit.
I’ve never been a fan of the Tom Clancy oeuvre; I’d only seen two Jack Ryan movies, and saw this one only for the cast list (Chris Pine, Keira Knightley, Kenneth Branagh), and the fact that it was directed by Branagh. Competent (and loud) but undistinguished action movie. Also, the idea that Russia would want to unleash terrorist attacks on the US in the 2000s as vengeance for something seems a bit farfetched.
The Disney movie I liked, especially the battle of wills between Emma Thompson’s suspicious, prickly PL Travers and Tom Hanks’ rather unctuous Walt Disney. But I’m a little suspicious about its factual accuracy — when it comes to telling its own history, the Walt Disney Company is hardly a disinterested party. And was the print of Mary Poppins it showed at the Hollywood premiere really that grainy?
Our home’s name is known only to RL family and friends, so I won’t post it here. But I will say that it’s great to see you back here, Betty, sounding like your usual quirky, jovial, lovable self.
@aimai: Those are cool names.
Thralekill was the country doctor who owned the house in the 1920s. His son was married to a distant cousin. Well, almost everyone down there is related to me.
We have a tiny mountain cabin whose name has changed with each owner. It went from the wee sma’ house to Strawberry Manor, and now that we have it we call it An Teach Beag. The wee house.
I shall call my estate “Studly Manor.”
I might go with Chez Disastre. Hmmm. Will have to continue to ponder. Would love to capture the 1967 avocado and goldenrod bathroom tile in the name, though.
So I finally wondered after all these seasons of Downton — who actually cleans that place? Everyone’s job seems to be cook, wait at table, or put someone’s coat on them. Who dusts and scrubs the floors and washes the windows, and do they have amnesia or a faraway love or are possibly killers?
The NJ governor’s mansion is named Drumthwacket. The governor doesn’t live in it, so an impending move may not be necessary.
Thoughts and prayers for you, Betty.
I always name my homes. When I lived in a mother-in-law apartment on 32 acres of wilderness a mile down a dead-end gravel road, it was The Shire. When I moved to a second-floor walk-up over a hair salon in small-town Appalachia, it was Shangri-La. Then, I moved to a tiny crackerbox in a rough neighborhood (I once got pulled over in my apartment complex and warned, “Sir, you should be careful, this is a rough neighborhood”), and that place was The F#[email protected] S%*!hole. Then I moved to my current home, called, after a friend’s alias that he retired recently, The Bolivar Shagnasty Memorial House. I wonder what my next place will be called?
Teabagger family farms, probably, I dunno. Call one ‘The Crater’, another might be “The Money Pit’.
For the poshest, maybe change ‘Downton Abbey’ into ‘Dumpy Alley’.
We call it “Ocean Peeks”, because if you stand in the right place you can barely see the sea.
Our place is Bratsholme after Ben, Ruth, Abby, Terry, and Sheila. Used to just be BRATS but when I “retire” in 2018 we’ll have a commercial operation on it and Bratsholme brands quite differently when used on, say, a maple syrup label or a disc golf scorecard :)
We call ours “Two Crabs.”
My sister bought a small old farmhouse on a couple of acres and they called it Huge Tracts of Land
Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn
I suppose I’d have to go with our WiFi name, which is “Fortress of Solitude.” (The Mrs. and I ar quite the introverts.)
Speaking of WiFi names, anyone here besides me partake in “WiFi surfing”? That’s where, when you’re riding the bus, you check your smart phone/pad for available networks, which are listed by name. If you live in a creative neighborhood like, say, Seattle’s Capitol Hill, all sorts of interesting network names can pop up (before they quickly go).
Betty C., my sincerest belated condolences.
@Mr. Longform: Given that our neighborhood was built on a swamp and our yard drains very poorly when it rains, which is all frickin winter and spring, I may go with Swamp Castle. Maybe I can build a tower over the car port….
@Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn: WiFi Surfing— Have done that for years. The change over time during the taxi ride from Dupont Circle to DCA has been awesome. I remember when most of the handful of networks were not even secure.
@Betty Cracker: OMG My Screaming Pines abode has also transformed into Sulking Pines with not one, but TWO teenage boys, aged 13 and 15.
Is there anything worse than living with teenagers? They know each and everyone of your flaws, which they will detail to you with great relish; while at the very same time being completely and utterly unaware of their own foibles.
I stayed in a little cottage in Scotland that had a name that is even on the Ordinance Survey map. It was right on the River Spey, owned by the people who own nearby Ballendalloch Castle.
The OS maps are incredible, fascinating to a geography and history buff. There’s a trick to getting them online outside the UK. The URL is http://www.bing.com/maps/?mkt=en-gb and you choose the map type once you’re looking at the UK.
@Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn: re wifi, there used to be one in our neighborhood called FBI Surveillance Van, always gave me a chuckle.
My aunt owns a house in a small English village – one of those picturesque little ones with a Mill and rolling green slopes all around. It has no number, just “Vine Cottage” because of the (supposedly) hundreds-of-years-old vine growing on it.
That’s so true it should appear in the dictionary definition of “teenager.”
@Origuy: I LOVE the OS maps. I went hiking (aka munroe-bagging, in theory) up in Scotland and they were awesome. Even piles of rocks (often useful ones) are labeled!
@elmo: “We also had a cow for a while, but we sold him. While he was ours, his name was Elmer Fuddrucker.”
Did you milk him?
You recall correctly: We found out about his illness and my mom’s on the same day, which pretty much set the bar for how much a day can suck here at Cork Haven. FIL is holding his own so far, and we’re staying as optimistic as possible.
@Soonergrunt: Serene Flow comment has me cackling like a madman here in Vegas.
Celestial Temple, of course.
@JoyousMN: I am the luckiest mother on earth. I’ve got two teenagers right now and though they are aware of our flaws they really are too polite to mention it to us at all–although there is sometimes a suspicious amount of giggling going on behind our backs. In fact they treat me and Mr aimai like preternaturally fragile creatures in need of praise, care, and comforting.
My daughter spent a year in college in England, at Durham University. The university was headquartered in a castle. Her dorm room was a small, cold room down the street, off an alley, but her mailing address (in the 1990’s) was “The Castle, Durham, England.” When they would question this at the post office, I would say, “Well, there’s just the one castle.”
Steve in the ATL
About half the posters here will know exactly what that means.
Well at least, no one has named their house Crapshack.
Mrs. Aqui is addicted to that show. I started calling it “Upton Downton”, on account of the similarity with Upstairs Downstairs.
Alas, my mocking has no effect. She still is addicted to it. Plugs into the laptop with noise cancelling headphones so nothing can distract her while she watches her show.
Right now I THINK I’m in Number Five, Bugshot Row.
Permanent accommodations will likely be The Understate (on land) or M.Y. Mahulani (afloat).
Stay strong, Betty and welcome back.
@johnny aquitard: I think Mame Dennis-Pickett-Burnside-Woolsey would have a thing or two to say about that…
In honor of the basenjis our house is called Bitings.
Casa del Gecko
@aimai: Trade? *She asks hopefully*
Naw, of course I’m kidding. I wouldn’t wish for that. You’re to nice a person Aimai.
My sister swears that the gods made kids that way as teenagers so you wouldn’t want to keep them at home, because otherwise you’d never let them leave. As it is, you’re just as grateful they are leaving as they are to leave.
We named our house Clover Cottage. We found two or three four-leafed clovers on the day of the closing, and we felt really luckyto get the house.
It took nine months and many tries to buy it because the owners were having a bad conflict between themslves, and then when we finally had a deal, the bank almost wouldn’t lend cause the place was in rough shape. Anyway, we felt really fortunate in the end.
Also the lawn is full of clover and we like it as much as lawn grass. I guess I don’t understand why it would be considered a weed.
So, the name is admittedly a little cutesy but it means a lot to us.
When I was going through menopause at the same time our daughter was going through puberty, my husband took to answering the phone “Hello, Hormone House”.
The Red Pen
I’m waiting for the cats to name my home. It’s only fair. They own it.
@Betty Cracker: Yes. If it’s not the definition, it should be.
I had a revelation the other day, which I shared with my boys. I said, “I don’t know WHY in the world I thought we would have normal, conventional kids, when neither your Dad or I could be defined that way.”
Of course we have two experiential learners: both their parents never take anyone’s word about anything.
You say that stove is hot?
Here, let me check.
Damn. You were right.”
Funny how that works, isn’t it?
Betty, sorry to hear about your loss. My mother recently passed away watching TV after working a full day. I blame NBC’s coverage of the Olympics. I hate to lose her, but that’s the way to go.
@Betsy: Here in Illinois it’s recommended that you have at least 10% clover mixed in with your lawn to keep it healthy.
I can’t decide what the best name for our apartment should be:
Twerking on the Wold
Puddles on the Carpet
An an apartment dweller, I tend to agree with PG Wodehouse:
How about French? “Stone Pig” translates as “cochon en pierre“, so you can call your place “Chateau Cochonpierre”, and have it sound like an expensive Burgundian winery!
Though “Schweinstein” also has a sort of Continental flavor…
We call ours The Treehouse because we’re in the third floor, attic, and we do look out at the tops of trees.
Previously, I lived in The Shack. The man who sold it to us blamed all strange items on his brother; evidence of someone chopping wood in the kitchen, the man-sized, man-shaped hole in the sheetrock at the foot of the stairs, the number of white skull shaped things protruding from the soil after a strong rain that turned out to be buried toilets…
Turned out, he didn’t have a brother.
Ivan Ivanovich Renko
Xanadu Palace, home of The Great Khan, sole ruler of Khanate Space (along with his cats, his dog and his sweetie).
My vehicle is KhanForce One.
Or the name I saw on an actual house:
@Helmut Monotreme: One vote for Twerking on the Wold.
Tone in DC
I am certain Simón himself would approve. ;-)
We live in a Sears and Roebuck Craftsman Bungalow. As we were making the decision to buy it, my husband’s stepdad asked, “Where is it again?” and we told him. He asked, “Does it have a big porch on it?” and we said that it did. He said, “I believe I used to live in that house in the Fifties”.
So we took him through it and he confirmed it. He pointed out where it had been changed and what was the same. Of course after that, we had to buy it. It’s family!
And we call it The Bungaloo.
@sparrow: The man who founded the OS was an archaeology buff. Even today, Roman ruins are mapped and labeled with a Times Roman-like font and prehistoric ruins with a sort of Celtic font.
May have had an effect, just maybe not the one you were looking for.
my house doesn’t have a name, but the room where my studio is housed does – Scabby Toad
I don’t like where this is going….
Lots of names for the abode, depending on what’s broken most recently, but Bermuda grass hades will do.
My horrible cousin, who’s the sort who filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves in the library with books with matching spines that have never been opened, named her house after two of her children. The child after whom the house isn’t named is the only one I find tolerable.
That rates a lengthy golf clap.
Carmel by the Sea, California has an evidently Wales-like system of no street addresses, and houses there do seem to mostly have names. Regret at the moment to not recalling even one, but there are lots of sand, shore, sea and critter references.
Heartfelt condolences. We’ve come close a couple of times, but my mom is holding strong after a really difficult life. So many amazingly strong women in this world. We’re trying hard to raise our two girls to carry on that tradition.
My house: Shambles. Though I say sheepishly I did just meet with an architect about adding a second story and making it into a real home. I know it will be a godawful amount of money, second only to a godawfuller amount of money buying a new house here in souless “Silly Con Valley”.
Deadish thread, but always liked the name given by Erroll Flynn and David Niven to a beach house they shared over several summers.
My aunt and uncle had one of those Sears and Roebuck craftsman bungalows. I loved that house. I wish, when they passed away, that I could have afforded to buy it. Sadly, they built it right in the middle of Sewickley, PA and it was waaaaaaaay out of my price range at that time of my life.
Here is your typical Sewickley, PA resident (and an illustration of why I was not in any way able to afford buying there):
Famous residents of Sewickley include former Pittsburgh Penguins star Mario Lemieux, as well as current Penguins stars Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin and Sergei Gonchar of the Dallas Stars, and retired Pittsburgh Steeler legend Franco Harris (former Pittsburgh Steeler legend Lynn Swann is often thought to be a Sewickley resident, but he actually lives in the neighboring borough of Sewickley Heights, where all the super-super-super-super rich live: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sewickley_Heights,_Pennsylvania). Actor and former MTV VJ Dan Cortese and longtime NFL head coach legend Chuck Noll live here, as well as former Penguins goalie Tom Barrasso. Musician William Fitzsimmons also hails from the borough. 12th district Congressman Keith Rothfus lives in Sewickley. Also Former Pittsburgh Steeler Quarterback Mike Tomczak.
This Gaia-Damned House.
Betty – so sorry about your mom. My condolences to you (and Eric U, too.)
As for a name for our little Culver City shitbox (what a local veterinarian calls the older-by-SoCal-standards cheaply built houses) I think I need to come up with a name that would give proper recognition to Juno’s stankbreath.
My husband’s family called their home the Bratcave.
Glad to hear you are doing well Betty. Not real sure what to name the homestead. Someday I’ll think of something.
@LeeM: ocean Peeks!
We looked at a house that was listed as having a view of the SF bay, and after wandering through we asked the realtor where the view was.
“If you stand on the toilet in the upstairs bathroom…”
Here in the SFV, there’s a street called “Oceanview” that’s in Montrose (North Glendale). I was always like, Yeah, right, but sure enough, we’re high up enough in the mountains that, when the air is clear, you can see all the way down to Santa Monica Bay, 30-ish miles away.
IIRC, they call that a “pocket view” of the ocean when you’re closer to the shore than we are.
Did once go to look at an apartment, the ad for which touted a “low-impact” kitchen.
It had no stove.
Our first house was a rent house out in the country – $80.00 a month, all bills paid. People would regularly dump unwanted dogs near us, which I would clean up, feed, doctor, etc. and find homes for. My late husband would put ads in the paper, which he always entitled “Jules’s Home for Wayward Poochies.” It worked – we always found good homes for the dogs.
@Eric U.: So sorry for your loss. Sounds like it was peaceful, though, which is a blessing.
My mom and I watched some of the Olympics coverage before she became too ill to really be all that present in the final week. We made fun of the ice dancers’ inability to “hold a twizzle” (or, more accurately, we laughed at the announcer’s description of that phenomenon) and puzzled over the intricacies of curling.
El Rancho Notsogrande
Mah abode is the Turtle Ranch, because of the gopher tortoises (Gopherus polyphemus) residing herein.
Phoenician in a time of Romans
@schrodinger’s cat: Had a friend who referred to his house as “The Hovel, North”. His wife hated it when he called it that.
We have a small horse farm in North Carolina that I wanted to name Morningwood Farm. That got vetoed so it’s now Gray Goose Farm. Too bad, the sign I had in mind for the first name would have been quite the attention getter.
We tried to name the estate Belly Acres, but that never really stuck. Most of our friends call it the golden house because we almost always have golden retrievers. It was also called the dog house when we had four dogs of various backgrounds.
My modest residence does not warrant a name. I refer to it simply as “my rooms in [street name],” à la Sherlock Holmes. I do wish that (a) the Drones Club was real and (b) I was a member.
Bro’ man’s Arlington spread does have a name: Sighthound Hall.
ETA: I had a friend once who referred to his starter home as “God’s Quarter Acre.” Nice Erskine Caldwell reference, especially in the Deep South.
@Mnemosyne: I know that road and the name always makes me laugh.
You know those incredibly clear days in SoCal in the winter? On the way to Lake Arrowhead and just past the interchange for Crestline on State Highway 18, you can see the ocean at Long Beach. You can see the ships just outside the harbor. You can see the cranes.
We couldn’t believe our eyes the first time we noticed it, took a picture with a moderately long lens (135) and blew it up on the computer just to make sure.
You all are a very amusing bunch. And I get to hang out for free! Sorta.
My wife and I live in the woods outside of Brookings, OR, well above the tsunami zone. We call our home ‘Paradise’ and we mean it.
The building I live in is called “Inwood House” but my apt shall be named “The Black Hole Where Nothing can Be Found.”
Death Panel Truck
The legal description of our property is “Lot 15, Block 4 Corrected Plat Riverview Terrace Addition,” so our home will henceforth be called “Riverview Terrace,” even though the Columbia River is three blocks south of us and we can’t see it.
We dubbed our crazy little house the Montclair Mystery House, basically a (much smaller) cousin to the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose.
For those who don’t know, crazy Mrs. Winchester was told after most of her family died that she had to continuously build on the house to appease the spirits of those killed by Winchester rifles. She bought an unfinished farmhouse in California and moved across the country, and then proceeded to build 24 hours a day for the rest of her life. This meant that things got reconfigured a lot, and there are doors that lead to walls, funny 1/2 sized doors, weird hallways, and other sundry eccentricities. It is quite a delight.
Our house is in the Montclair neighborhood of Oakland, originally built in 1937 as a 1 bed/1 bath. In the 60s a charming lady bought it can made it a 3/2 for her family…she then reconfigured the space at least 3 other times. We have a former hallway-turned-closet where the front side of one door is now a built-in with shelves/cupboards and the other is bookshelves. One of the now-superfluous doors to the dining room now opens to a wall, but never one to waste space she put in magazine racks. There is a cupboard door in the wall ABOVE a doorway that I have never actually opened – I think it goes to storage above the stairwwell – hard to say. Anyway, lovely lady sold us the house in 2012 after living in it for approximately 48 years. We are still oncovering hidden cupboards/doors/shelves inside of other closets and shelves 18 months later.
A Ghost To Most
Kathmandu is our house’s name.
And our heavily armored mountain assault vehicle is the W.T. Sherman.
Both me and my partner have always called every placed we lived as Tropical Paradise. We both grew up north. Live in St Pete now. The only thing that gets in the way is the Mosquitos. The only thing I miss from the North is tomatoes. I can’t seem to a good job growing them
Our house is called “Chez Rozilla”. My online name is Darkrose, and my wife is Telesilla, so when you combine the two you get either a) a monster that will destroy Neo-Tokyo or b) a couple of chubby lesbian geeks and their cats.
@Steve in the ATL: Hah!
Several years back, a friend dubbed my house “Uncle Dave’s Home for Wayward Boys” because I always seemed to have some troubled soul staying in the spare room. After a while, though, it started becoming a little too (a) real, and (b) creepy. About that time I started converting most of the smallish back yard over to an organic garden, giving rise to the new name, Wayward Farm.
Betty Cracker, especially for you, review of the penultimate episode of Downton Abbey.
First of all Betty, my sincere condolences on the loss of your mom. Your remembrances were heartfelt and funny as hell. I would have loved to have met her. Lost my mom last October, but she was 90 and had lived a long and full life. It’s hard to lose your parents when they seem (relatively) young; my dad passed at 66.
We are building a new home in the desert, made out of 16-in. thick adobe bricks. I am proposing “Casa Ladrilla” for the name, but my husband calls it “Casa de Loco” since it is quickly turning into an amazing money pit.
My current abode is Raccoon Trampoline.
I think the little bastards must be screwing 2 or 3 times a night on the roof. And they are feisty and well fed, I’d say about 20 lbs.
Have in the past. Some times you just have to call it like you see it.
My husband grew up on Ocean View in Montrose, although the house he lived in has been replaced by a hideous McMansion.
We used to live in an apartment we now call The Hole on Holt, but haven’t really come up with a name for our current lower-half-duplex abode. Chez Miserables (h/t: MASH on TV) is a good candidate, but I’ll have to think about it some more. Since we live in the soft underbelly of Hancock Park, some kind of allusion to that might work.
@Mnemosyne: In my view, agreeing with Wodehouse is a very good practice!