First mate's log:
June 10, 1970
Now that there are more kids on the island, soon to be much more once school gets out and more families move here this summer, there are more activities and clubs, both through school and outside of school. For instance, there's a Little League for the boys, and all three of the Brady sons have joined that. And Marcia has joined the Sunflower Girls troop for this island.
Alice told me that last Saturday, Mr. Brady coached the boys, while Mrs. Brady was heading into the jungle with all three girls to help Marcia earn her wilderness badge. The two parents compared notes and thought the other one had the easier day. Mr. Brady thought it must've been a pleasant day on a nature walk, even though Cindy fell in a stream and Jan went in after her, and Mrs. Brady had to collect both girls. Mrs. Brady thought playing baseball sounded relaxing. So now, after Alice suggested it, Mr. and Mrs. Brady have a bet, where this Saturday Mrs. Brady will coach the boys and Mr. Brady will help Marcia earn her cooking badge.
I remember how rough it was when the women and girls left us early on after the shipwreck. Women's work is hard and I sure wouldn't want to cook on a regular basis. On the other hand, I'm not much of a ball player, since I'm so clumsy, although I am a fast runner. But Alice thinks that Mr. and Mrs. Brady will get more of an appreciation for each other's role by doing this. I just hope the kids don't suffer too much, but it's only for one day.
Carol Brady's diary:
June 14, 1970
Oh, I'm so exhausted and sore! Mike and I made a foolish bet, egged on by Alice, over who would have a tougher day, him helping Marcia earn a Sunflower Girls cooking badge or me helping our boys practice for Little League. (Yes, there are more children's activities these days, which keeps them, and us, busier.) Mike isn't a bad cook, but according to Alice and Marcia, he tried to apply "logic" to the kitchen, without using common sense. He slipped on the floor because he wasn't listening to Alice.
As for me, I never knew much about baseball, or any sports, but I checked out every baseball instructional book I could from the Blenford Library. (Mrs. Howell promises we'll get a library here after the population goes up this summer. It's one of the cultural things she cares about, although she probably won't be able to establish a "city orchestra." Maybe a museum though.) I did my best to learn but even Bobby still knows more about baseball than I do. I don't think I'll ever trade places with Mike again, unless it's something genuinely fun and relaxing, and I think he sees now that even "the gentler sex" can be hard to look after.
July 10, 1970
With school out, the Brady kids are home more, even with all their activities. They're getting on each other's nerves more, as they've told me, and a big part of that is having to share a bathroom. And, yeah, our "facilities" before the rescue were a lot more primitive, but the kids have gotten used to indoor plumbing the past two years, and now both Greg and Marcia are teenagers and take longer with their hair and stuff, her especially. (Jan takes even longer.) And lately the house just feels too small for nine people.
So Mr. Brady has put a bid on a bigger house, one that he designed so of course he knows all about it. It's much bigger, no, it's not the Howell mansion, but it belongs to one of the few families who are moving off the island, while so many people are moving here. This family, the Bradfords, lived here only a year but the island is just too isolated for them, and they do have eight kids, a lot of them teenagers. So it'll feel roomy for six kids.
The problem is, now that they have a chance to move, the Brady kids don't want to. Greg told me that they've gotten used to this house after almost two years, even with all its flaws. They were just hoping their dad might build on an extra bathroom or something.
So he's come up with a scheme that all his brothers and sisters are happy to go along with. They're going to trick Alice and their mom into thinking that their house is haunted. They'll play spooky sounds on a tape recorder and anything else they can think of. I've promised not to tell, although I feel sorry for Mrs. Brady and Alice. (Mr. Brady is working late outside home every night because of how big the final construction project is, and it's still not quite finished.)
July 17, 1970
Well, we just had a crazy week, so crazy I ended up not writing about it because I didn't want to sound superstitious. It started with the kids fighting more than ever, especially over their shared bathroom. So Mike, without telling me, put a bid on the Bradford house, which he also built. It was sold to a family last year, and it's bigger than ours because they have eight kids (without remarriage). The oldest is 16, the youngest a baby, with many of the kids in between sharing classes with our kids. And of course they're close alphabetically. Anyway, the isolation got to be too much for them, so they've moved away, putting the house back on the market.
I didn't even totally mind Mike making the decision unilaterally, since it's a great house. And our kids were excited about it, at first. But I guess they had second thoughts, because they started making spooky noises and doing everything they could to convince me and Alice that this two-year-old house was haunted. I'm embarrassed to say we fell for it, at least until two pint-sized ghosts in my mutilated best sheets came running through the living room while a prospector buyer was over.
Suffice to say, we Bradys are staying put. To be honest, I think we're all lucky to not be living in huts anymore.