What's in a Name in European Judea?

Apropos of yesterday's post about signs; as we live in an area where houses have just names and no numbers, we've been debating for some time a name for the newbuild. The working name to date has been Badger's End, Badger being the nick-name Hayley gave me years ago due to my beard being shaded like a badger's face - although it has since become more small, white polar bear than badger, perhaps Arctic badger.

Due to the houses in our vicinity having no numbers, finding the place is fraught with difficulty for those not familiar with the area - like ambulances, the fire services and anyone who may have occasion to find the house in a bit of a hurry.

Couriers especially have issues with houses in our location (houses with no numbers were the bane of my life when I drove as a courier during a brief period of being 'between jobs'). Even a satnav programmed with our postcode results in couriers grounding their car sumps on a nearby unmade road resembling a glacial moraine and deliveries being deposited with anyone in a half mile radius.

When we had the scaffolding up on the house last year, the scaffolding company put a white plastic sign at the end of our track by the main road advertising their wares. It said "Budget Scaffolding, Yate". Once the scaffolding was removed they left the sign, and as it was a useful landmark for people trying to find the house, we left it where it was.

We're now thinking of leaving it there for good and amending it to read "Bagget Scarfold", being a suitably pompous name for the house. The scaffolding holding the sign up may have to go, however, as they are redolent of an industrial unit. The lettering on the example will need changing too, else it would look like a ransom note.

If closer European integration is the solution, what is the problem? No, European integration itself is the problem, the only solution being for Europe to split along cultural and economic lines. Besides, they have some really bitter winters in Europe - I certainly don't want any of that, so it's better we stay out of any pact and stick to British winters, which are much milder.

Why is it that every parent who has ever had a child in a school nativity play dresses their kid like a comedy Arab with a dressing gown and a tea-towel? I guess we've been fooled by all those quaint Victorian Bible images.