“Welcome to Rose Bay!” I grew up in a family where naming things was the norm—whether it was a house, a boat, or even a bedroom (like the Seven Dwarfs twin bedroom). The naming even extended to beach and pool towels that my mom would embroider with labels like Sandy Feet, Zinnias, or Golden Hour to help everyone differentiate their towel.
The first time I heard a house referred to by a name goes back to my grandparents. They moved around a lot when I was growing up, and this was their way to define each new spot—which meant there were lots of names. Whether it was inspired by the house itself, a detail of the property, simply known for the road it sat on, or even called a completely made-up word, it was always fun to hear the new name my grandmother came up with.
A few of my favorites were Toad Hall, inspired by the nearby pond with lots of frogs; River House, which overlooked the Tennessee River and where I spent much of my middle school years; and Rose Bay, a spot on Mobile Bay where my grandmother planted an English-inspired rose garden. (She later learned that Rosebay is also the name of a rhododendron variety.) Throughout the years, there have been many others like Hedge Rose, Little Bay House, River Cottage, and Point Blank, and it’s a tradition I’ve come to cherish…