I’ve been silent for a while because we were in Cambodia for three weeks and I’ve spent another three trying to dig my way out of 4000+ pictures (cameras can be both a blessing and a curse).
While we were there, we spent a day with the team from our church at Kam-Air, Cambodia’s first and only wakeboard park, founded by one of our kids and run by Alf and my son-in-law, John.
The park has “acquired” its own dog (acquired as in the dog showed up and stayed). He’s a medium-sized dog that has been christened Goliath. He looks vaguely shephard’ish to me, and he loves John.
Names are interesting things. We are given them for a lifetime, yet have no say in what they are. That could be a good thing (Brian, Ashley) or a very bad thing (Moon Unit, Apple). We all know people who don’t like their names (any boy named Leslie), people whose parents couldn’t spell (Graclyn), and people whose names we wish we had (Rhianna, Powers Booth).
Names can make for interesting stories. My mother’s name is Blanche, which as you might guess is a relatively unusual name. When she was in high school, a guy trying to “chat her up” (sorry, too many British comedies on PBS) asked her her name.