Years and years ago, when Mr Penry and I were first wed, we lived in a small house on the corner of a very short street. It was easily about 150 years old, and had a small paved yard for a garden.

For such a small place, it also had a pretty stained glass panel just above the front door, but the large centre had been painted over with white paint. I decided to scrape it off and see what was underneath. Perhaps our little love nest had once had a proper name.

So I got out the ladder and an assortment of scrapers and knives and got to work, beginning with where I thought the first letter might be.

Almost at once I got lucky and uncovered the letter 'U'. My mind started to race. What sort of house name starts with U? The next letter was an 'N' and the third one was 'D'. Now I was pretty certain it had to be UNDER-something. Underhill, maybe? Underwood?

By the time Mr Penry returned from work, the name was revealed in all its glory and I had the paint out ready to cover it up again.
The 'house name' was ..... Undertakers.

Yep, at some point the previous owner had run their own funeral business, knocking up the coffins out in the back yard.