bookmark_borderGordon's Mum Writes

Whilst I’ve written about this in the past (thanks to Donalda, who STILL doesn’t have a blog and I think she’d be a big hit, for finding it for me), my Mum has responded to a recent request for the “Gordon Gordon” story.

I’ve never tried guest authors, but as it’s my Mum… mind you, this is definitely a one-off, if you want any more tales from my Mumsy then she’ll need to setup a blog of her own (which would, as it happens, give her the, apparently, much sought after coloured name in the comments).

The previous two sentences will make NO sense whatsoever if you don’t visit the comments here very often. Sorry about that, but it IS your own fault.

So, without further ado:

Dad wanted to call you Moray – after the Firth, and I wanted Neil – after a lot of thought. We had considered Ramsay – dad’s middle name and Todd, grandpa’s middle name and Scott, gran’s maiden name. However we were still arguing about Neil and Moray when I went into labour. If you were a girl it was to be Joanne – both agreed on that.

You took a while to appear (you’ve made up for that by being early for everything since then) and as I was tucking into lentil soup followed by strawberry ice cream (which reappeared later as my stomach was already full) Dad suddenly said ‘what about Gordon?’ – my maiden name. Sounded nice and when you arrived you looked like a Gordon so that stuck.

Dad phoned the new Grandma and grandpa to tell them the good news.

“We’ve just had a boy and we are going to call him Gordon”

“Gordon Gordon?” says Gran.

“No your daughter married 3 years ago and changed her name if you remember…. so it’s Gordon McLean !”

So there you have it.

And yes, it’s quite nice having two family names.

bookmark_borderMore names

The man they call Lyle (to his face) reminds me of a story about names, or to be more precise, the story of my name.

My Mum was named Lynda Gordon, and on marrying my Dad became Lynda McLean (you can see where this is heading already can’t you). Soon the lovely couple decided to produce a lovely little baby. Unfortunately for them they got lumbered with me but I digress.

What to call me? Neal? (Neale?), Murray? They couldn’t make up their minds (ohhh except I was to be Joanne if I was a girl). They eventually decided on Gordon. Simple enough name really, Gordon McLean. Everyone agreed it was a lovely name for a cute little baby (I really was you know).

Alas my Gran got a bit confused…
“It’s a boy!” my parents said.
“Ohhh wonderful, what’s his name then?” my Gran asked.
“Gordon” said my parents
“… ehh… Gordon?” pondered my Gran
“Yes” said my parents
“What… Gordon Gordon?” queried my Gran.
“No Mum, I got married.” said my Mum.