Getting Into A Pikkle With The Naming

(A childhood friend of mine has just bought a house with his fiancé, and I bring them a pizza and help them unpack boxes. After dinner, we’re chilling on the back porch and gushing about the house.)

Friend: “It’s perfect. Not so isolated that [Fiancé] feels totally alone, but screened in enough that we feel peaceful.”

Me: “And the view is to die for. Nothing like living on top of a mountain for a great vista.”

Friend: “I know, right? We’ve been trying to think of a good name for the place. Something nerdy.”

Me: “The Eyrie?”

Friend: “Nah, not specific enough. I’m thinking The Lonely Mountain House, but [Fiancé] wants to call it Salamandastron.”

Me: “Why? You’re nowhere near the sea.”

Friend: “Oh, yeah, you haven’t met the neighbors! Hang on. Watch, you’ll get a kick out of this.”

(He stands, cups his hands around his mouth, aims his voice off to one side into the woods where we can hear the noise of children playing, and shouts at the top of his voice.)

Friend: “EULAILIAAA!”

Kids: *yelling back* “REDWAAALL!”

Me: “Oh, my god… you have the best neighbors ever. Introduce me, please!”

(Ten minutes later, two boys and a girl come sprinting up the driveway. My friend tells them I’m an otter, and now every time I come to visit “Salamandastron,” the neighbors all call me Skipper.)