First mate's log:

November 14, 1972

Mary Ann won the jam contest! I'm very proud of her. And even though she's specializing in pizza these days, she's decided to start selling jams and jellies on the side.

Greg and I were talking about this and he asked, "How do people know 'what they want to be when they grow up'? I mean, I'm almost seventeen and I still haven't figured it out."

"Well, I joined the Navy so I wouldn't have to figure it out. And then I met the Skipper and have been working for him ever since."

He chuckled and then shook his head. "Well, I'll probably go to college instead. But I don't even know what major I'm going to choose."

"Well, you can be undeclared at first. And maybe you'll take classes that help you decide."

"I hope so."

"Why are you worrying about it right now?"

"Well, I had to write a paper about what career I want."

"Oh, what did you say?"

"Well, since I couldn't decide on anything, I said architect."

"Oh, like your dad."

"Yeah, I figure I at least know the basics of the profession. He's been telling me about his building plans since even before he designed huts. So I was able to bluff my way through it."

"Well, at least you were able to write something."

Looking guilty, he whispered, "Actually, I got an A on it."

"Oh, well, that's good."

"Yeah, but I lied."

"Maybe, but it's your teacher's fault for giving you an assignment like that."

I don't know if that helped, but he thanked me anyway.

Carol Brady's diary:

November 15, 1972

Mike is so proud of Greg! Well, he always is, but Greg recently got an A on a paper about his future career. Greg wants to be an architect! Yes, like father like son.

I'll admit I never really thought about Greg specifically following in Mike's footsteps. To be honest, I would've expected it more of Jan. She used to build sandcastles and she's more artistic than Greg. But I am happy for both Greg and Mike of course.

November 16, 1972

I thought Greg was making a big deal out of nothing a couple days ago, but the thing with his career paper has gotten more complicated. His father overheard Marcia reading aloud from that paper. So now their dad thinks that Greg really does want to be an architect. Greg doesn't want to hurt his dad's feelings, or disappoint him.

"How about you draw a building for him?"

"I can barely draw anything."

"Good. Then he'll see your drawing and realize you can't be an architect."

He grinned. "Great idea, Gilligan! And just to be sure, I'll make it extra bad."

I feel sorry for Mr. Brady, but it's probably better to let him down gently like this.

November 17, 1972

I'm a little worried about Greg, and Mike. Greg showed Mike his first "blueprints," which are more like "blooper-prints." It was supposed to be a house but it's not shaped like one. And it has a moat! I'd blame this on Greg growing up on an island, but our houses here, most of them designed by Mike, look like ordinary American houses. And it's not as if our huts had moats.

Mike thinks that Greg just needs better tools than a pen, pencil, and ruler. He wants to pass on his own first drafting kit. That's a very thoughtful gift, but I don't know if that would make Greg any better a draftsman. I think you have to have a basic talent and then that can be developed and trained. But I'm trying not to interfere, because this means so much to Mike, and maybe Greg does have hidden talent and this will work.

Meanwhile, all the other children (except Marcia, who will presumably be going to college the year after Greg) are thinking about their future careers. Peter and Jan want to be a doctor and a nurse respectively. Yes, good thing Peter is doing better in science these days. Bobby wants to be an astronaut, while Cindy surprisingly wants to be a model. Cindy is a very pretty little girl, but she's more of a tomboy than Jan ever was. Still, Alice says Cindy is cutting back on sweets, so that's a good thing.

November 18, 1972

Well, my plan didn't work out for Greg. His dad just thought he needed better drawing tools, so he gave Greg the set he started out with, about twenty years ago. Greg feels guiltier than ever.

I suggested that he draw an even worse drawing, so that his dad will see that it wasn't the tools.

Greg said, "I'll give it my best. I mean my worst."

November 19, 1972

Oh dear. Greg did new blueprints, with Mike's old drafting kit. And the latest drawing is even worse somehow. Mike called Greg "Frank Lloyd Wrong," although not to his face of course.

He doesn't want to hurt Greg's feelings, but he can't continue to encourage him in this career. He's not sure what to do, and I don't have any advice at the moment.

Meanwhile, Peter and Jan are having fun doing "medical research," making lists of various diseases. I'm glad they're not actually trying to practice medicine, because that would be worse than Greg designing (but luckily not building) houses. I figure even if they don't pursue medicine, this is a hobby that may help them in school and whatever future careers they actually follow.

As for Bobby and Cindy, he's been using Tiger's old doghouse as a spaceship, while Marcia taught Cindy to walk with a book on her head, like she did with Molly. Yes, I'm glad Bobby isn't jumping off roofs, and Cindy isn't trying to dress in my clothes, like when she wished she was as grownup as her sisters.

November 20, 1972

As bad as I feel for Greg, who's been spending days drawing the worst blueprints he can, I feel much worse for Peter. Peter has a fatal disease! He's been suffering from "shortness of breath, sore fingers and facial discoloration." Ever since he and Jan heard that Greg wants to be an architect (only Marcia and I know the truth), he and Jan have wanted to go into medicine. So they've been reading up on different diseases. And Peter came across these symptoms for anacardiaceae. (Yeah, he had to spell it for me.)

He has six months to live! He won't even live long enough to go to high school. It's so sad! He's a good kid, even if he messes up a lot. (Yeah, he reminds me of me, in a different way than Bobby does. (Greg is a lot cooler and more popular than I ever was, although I did worry about disappointing my dad.)

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Not yet. I'm still trying to get the nerve up to tell my parents."

"Peter, they need to know."

"Yeah, but I've only told you and Jan so far. Her because she's my nurse and was there when I made my diagnosis, and you, because, well, you're real easy to talk to."

I thanked him but again encouraged him to tell his parents and a doctor. Who knows, maybe there's a cure. And I think of all the times that I thought I was dying and then it turned out to be OK.

November 21, 1972

Things worked out all right, as they usually do. It turned out that Greg doesn't want to be an architect after all, but he didn't want to disappoint Mike.

We did have a little "medical drama" with Peter, who thought the symptoms for poison ivy meant he had a completely different, and fatal, disease. He's relieved but has given up the idea of going into medicine.

November 23, 1972

It turned out that Peter just has poison ivy, which he somehow never caught before growing up on this island. I've had it myself a couple times. It's not fun but it won't kill you.

Mary Ann shut down her pizza parlor for Thanksgiving today and made me, the Professor, Ginger, the Skipper, and Joyce a nice dinner. It does feel funny to have Joyce included in the "family stuff," but I like her and I think she's good for the Skipper, making him less cranky.

Oh, and do you remember how the Professor and Ginger got engaged and were going to have a small wedding in late August? Well, that got pushed back because the Skipper, Mary Ann, and I were all traveling in Hawaii earlier in the month and she wanted Mary Ann to be part of the planning. (Plus the Skipper will be best man.)

So now they'll have a Christmas wedding, on this island instead of Blenford, because this is where it all started. Mary Ann and I are still planning to get married in June, but that feels a long way off. The Skipper teased me about being able to eat Mary Ann's cooking every day, but I practically do that now.

And, yes, she served her delicious strawberry jam and biscuits. I'm very thankful for her, and not just her cooking. And I feel lucky to have so many great friends, on this island and Blenford.

November 24, 1972

We had a lovely Thanksgiving yesterday. Alice and I both cooked, with help from Marcia, who joked that she's going to become a caterer someday. Alice and I made preserves but deliberately did not include strawberry jam this time.

Bobby and Cindy have given up on trying to eat extra healthy, since he now wants to be a football player and she wants to be a lady wrestler! So they're trying to bulk up now. I hope this is just another phase.

In any case, I'm thankful for my crazy but wonderful family.