Updated: Jul 15
According to some information I found on the interwebs recently, house naming started when the nobility in the 17th century made it a trendy thing to do. And to think, all these years I thought it was how letter carriers knew which house to deliver to.
Despite my obvious lack of knowledge on how the custom began, it's a custom I've always adored. Why? Probably because when I was younger and read books like Pride & Prejudice, Mansfield Park, or Jane Eyre, I would image myself wearing a muslin gown, reading books all day, and receiving hand written letters from loved ones addressed with only the name of my house and sealed with a wax seal.
To be clear, I never liked the idea of having to wear said muslin dress all the time. In fact, I always imagined myself bucking the system, putting on a pair of trousers and galloping off on a horse in rebellion, but then there would always be letters. Letters to my family trying to reconcile with them after my rebelliousness, letters from them recognizing the rules governing women were stupid, and letters to whoever else I could imagine would send me letters. (Letters addressed with only a house name and sealed with a wax seal. That was very important.)
I've mentioned before that when I bought by first house, before I was married, I named it Rosy Blessings. The house we lived in after we got married, and the one we just moved from, did not have a name. Although, I suspect we'll start calling it the Roxborough house when we have to refer to it, so I suppose it did get a name after all.
I knew when we decided to move out here to Huntsville, the house we picked would have a name. The two or three times we came up to see the house during the buying process, I thought a name would come to me, like it did with Rosy Blessings. But that was not the case. I thought about it a lot and wondered if I would have to wait till spring so I could identify the trees on the property in order to help me come up with a name.
But then one evening, my husband and I were sitting in front of the fireplace in the yellow room (yes, the rooms have names too.) talking about house names. He mentioned that it might be kind of fun to name the place after his grandfather Julian Powell who's nickname was Dude, but he didn't want to have a cliche name like "The Dude Ranch". And honestly, I didn't either. But I liked the thought of naming the place after people who were special to us.
The first person who came to my mind, was my dad, Buddy, because he grew up in the country and always told me stories about his growing up years, which I think is where my love for the country came from.
Fast forward about 48 hours after the conversation in front of the fireplace with my husband and I had a name for our new house. A name that we both like, that represents one person from each of our families who was special to us is some way, as well as a name that represents what a blessing this house and land is for us.
So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to our new home.
A few pictures taken on our property. First row, left to right: Sunrise, Deer in our backyard, Wild turkey's in our tree in the front yard.
Second row, left to right: Deer in our backyard, our dog having the time of his life, winter views of our backyard.
Third row: Snow covered trees alongside our house.