Sunday Summary 10.28.18Happy Sunday … and, if you’re celebrating, Happy Halloween!

If you’ve haven’t voted for your favorite Harry Potter names yet, now is the time:

In both cases, I read tea leaves with Sybill Trelawney. The Divinations professor agreed that both contests had a clear favorite – but in one case, it’s not turning out quite as expected. (At least as of Sunday morning …)

Elsewhere online:

Girl Names 10.28.18 Boy Names 10.28.18

About Abby Sandel

Whether you're naming a baby, or just all about names, you've come to the right place! Appellation Mountain is a haven for lovers of obscure gems and enduring classics alike.

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6 Comments

  1. My shortlist for my first son was: Jonah, Jonathan, Ivan, Johann, & Jack. My husband vetoed all of them as being far too common and boring. I vetoed all of his short-list on the grounds that none of them were pronounced anything close to the way they were spelled. We ended up compromising with Ioan – which I love. It’s a wonderful name and I can’t imagine him being anything else (he’s almost 11 now.) But – it pretty much wiped out my entire list of boys names. (Even though technically Jonah and Jonathan are not related to John the way Ioan, Johann, and Jack are, I think Jonathan is eliminated by association and Jonah is by sound.)

    My list of girls names is much more varied, but I would be shocked if we end up with enough daughters to use them all. Some of the names on my sad-not-to-use list include Imogen, Verity, Mercy, Genevieve, and Gwenllian.

  2. ‘Eglantine, Eglantine, oh how you shine!’ Eglantine is the first name of Miss Price in ‘Bedknobs and Broomsticks.’ It never occurred to me that it was French.

    1. Technically, Chaucer used it as a given name first, so this one is English! But it’s the same word for the flower in French, so I guess they have equal claim. More here!

  3. Sad-we-can’t-use-it list:
    Glen
    Hugh
    Otto
    Oscar
    Rollo
    Victory
    Thisbe
    Roxy

    Wonderful but unusable for us. :/

  4. I grew up just outside of Squirrel Hill. My oldest sister knew Rose Mallinger. I have no words to describe how awful it feels for this to have happened “at home” (though it’s been more than a decade since I lived in Pittsburgh).