Traveling with the troop.

When you are a dozen plus, going anywhere as a family can be daunting. That is probably why we didn't do it very often. Our church had multiple service times, so we went in shifts. As some of us older kids got our licenses, it was even easier for multiple trips.

Usually, family functions were held at our house, due to my Grandma living on the same property, and we lived on the original family farm. If we traveled to a relatives for family function we needed to take two cars. My Dad drove a 1970 Buick Estate Wagon, which held 9 passengers. My Mom drove a 1967 Buick Wildcat, which held the rest of us, and was just about as long as the wagon.  Dad always bought cars with a powerful engine, and liked to use it. One time with the car full of kids, we were behind a slow driver and he passed 7or so cars at one swoop with no trouble. You have to love a 455 Buick motor!

Our wagon was like this, but no wood grain stuff.

You might have thought that ours would be rowdy trips, but, when Dad was driving, it was silence in the car. We usually tried to get the back seat, there we could whisper and not be heard. That usually worked. We also were forced to listen to the "beautiful music" channel of elevator music. Songs you sort of recognized, but, not played by any original musicians.

It was Dad's job to drive whenever he was in the car. I was at least 35 before he rode in the car with me driving. Not that he didn't trust us, he just believed it was his job to do it. We drove to Canada once, him, my Mom, and my brother Jim, he drove the entire way for 10 hours. At least he wasn't one of those that don't stop to eat or use the restroom.

How do you remember your childhood travels?

Some Bathroom humor, or not....

No, this in not going to be a list of bad jokes, even though I have been known to tell a few. This is a reality check about growing up in a large family with no indoor plumbing until I was eleven. That is right, NO indoor plumbing.  We had an outhouse, a hydrant type faucet on a well in the yard, and at night you could use a chamber pot, if you didn't want to venture outside.

We usually had a large enamel pail on our counter top, which had a dipper. If you needed a drink, you used the dipper, and so did your brother and sister. If it got low, you took it out to the hydrant and filled it up. The water was bone chilling cold and tasty, but, no fluoride or chlorine. That is probably why I had so many fillings as a kid. We also passed our germs around, just a little.

by Natalie Maynor

I could not call our outhouse a reading room, as so many bathrooms were called. There was never a time that I wanted to spend any extra time in there. In summer, hot and flies, in winter, cold and sometimes flies.  Ours was a luxury outhouse, as it had a convertible seat. There was an extra board on a hinge with a smaller hole in it for the littler kids, so they wouldn't fall in!

Bath time was also a trip. Mom would heat up water on the stove, pour it in a galvanized tub and several young ones would jump in it.  The tub was usually set in front of the oil burner stove in the kitchen, to keep off the chill. We had one round tub and a larger oval one.  Sponge baths were in order as you got older, not wanting to strip in the kitchen and all.

When I first went to school, I had seen and used flush toilets at my relatives, but, not like the monster that sounded like I was going to get sucked down that was there. Scared the crap out of me! I know, bad pun. Having to shower after gym or sports was OK with me, better than the sponge bath at home!

I have always appreciated a warm shower and indoor bathrooms ever since. Leave a comment if you had a similar experience growing up.

Meals for the hungry masses

As you might well imagine, meal time at our house was run a little different than it probably was at yours. There are a lot of things that were logistically like feeding an army. Mom was in charge of getting it done, no matter how unwilling the troops were. We each had some part to do, and we rotated our chores weekly. Some of us set the table, some cleared the table, one washed, one dried and another put them all away. There was garbage detail and dog feeding chores. Some how, we seemed to disagree on who's week it was to do what.

Our Dad usually got home around 6 o'clock and supper was set for about 10 mins. after he came through the door.  When I was younger, he drove to Minneapolis to work in a big Pontiac dealership, but later, he owned his own service station. Either way, it worked out to him getting home about 6, being tired, either from fighting traffic all the way home, or running the station all day. 

When the car hit the driveway, things started in motion. Some of the kids would run out to carry his lunchbox in, hoping to find a leftover stale bologna sandwich, which we savored for some reason. Some scurried to finish a chore Mom had given us that had became urgent now where it had no been hurry before.  If one of us was sitting in Dad's chair in the living room, it was vacated. If you had to use the bathroom, you went to the upstairs one, so as to not be in the way so Dad could wash up for supper. It was a sort of ballet that helped keep things going smoothly.

Seating all of us also took a plan. We ate in two separate rooms. We didn't have a dining room. We had a table in our kitchen and in our playroom.  The first table I remember, Dad had built. It was a 4' x 8'sheet of 3/4" plywood, the top was covered with vinyl tiles and it had a nice chrome trim all around the edges. The table in the playroom was an antique library table, round with neat carved feet. It expanded with leaves if you needed it bigger.

The food was passed around the kitchen table, while one of the kids eating in the playroom would wait to take the bowls and platters to the other room and then return it to the kitchen table.  We usually had a big bowl of potatoes to pass around, a vegetable, something usually fresh from the garden or canned from last years garden, and meat.  Bread was also abundant. Mom baked 5 loaves every other day. I never knew what stale bread was growing up!

Supper time was not a boisterous loud affair as one might imagine with such a large group. Dad liked to eat in quiet, and we pretty much did that at the kitchen table. Those eating in the playroom had a little more freedom to talk, but, still did not get too loud. I guess it would have been chaos if all of us had tried talking at the same time.

Being the oldest, or orneriest, I was seated at the right hand of Dad, which meant, IF there was any thing left and Mom or Dad didn't want it, I had first dibs on it. That might explain why I was usually heavier than most of my brothers and sisters.

We had a tradition for our Sunday evening meal. We almost always had hot dogs, potato chips or potato salad, and jello with fruit cocktail in it for dessert. This made it quick and easy, which allowed us to get done in time to watch " The Wonderful World of Disney".

If you have some good memories from your meal time growing up, why don't you share them in the comment section below. Thanks!

Fishing Follies

My Dad loved to go fishing. It was great to spend time with him fishing, but, usually, it was better when we were actually catching fish, which we did most of the time.

If the fish weren't biting, it wasn't so much fun. He got impatient sometimes, well, a lot of times. We knew then to be sure we didn't splash too much or make any loud noises, as we might get yelled at for the fish not biting. He seriously liked to catch fish. It did seem like the mosquitoes bit harder when the fish weren't.

We lived in the Land of 10000 Lakes, but, usually we only went to a couple different ones.  Beebe Lake was the closest good fishing lake, so we went there a lot. We fly-fished, wearing our old tennis shoes and wading into the  shallows. Once in awhile, we would catch ourselves in the back or the hat, or worse yet, our head! We learned not to stand too close to each other in a big hurry! We did catch a lot of Sunfish and Crappies from that lake. I even got a nice bass once!

As you may have heard, Minnesota has a bit of a winter, and we did get to walk on the lakes. Ice fishing was a unique way to spend your time. I did get to go to Lake Mille Lacs with Dad at least once, but, maybe twice, if I recall.
That lake is exactly like what you may have seen if you watched the movie, " Grumpy Old Men".  Some weekends over 4000 people can be on that lake fishing. The landscape is dotted with fish shanty's of all shapes and sizes. Sometimes there are street signs posted!

We actually spent the night sleeping  on the lake, with the car parked outside. As the lake is rather large, there are pressure ridges of ice  that will crack and pop as the wind blows, making you think  that if you looked out the window, the car might be gone. 

In the morning, the light would actually come in from the ice before it came through the window, being transmitted across the lake! It wasn't hard keeping the fish fresh, tossing them on the ice until we were ready to go. 

As we got older, Mom was able to entrust the older kids to watch the younger ones, and Dad took Mom on some fishing trips with him. Of course, on her first trip out, she nabbed a larger Walleye than Dad had ever caught!

Well, maybe some of my other siblings can tell you about some of the other fishing adventures sometime, but, for now, I hope Dad is catching some big ones in Heaven. Later, Pat

Christmas at the Robeck's!

 I am not sure how our parents ever did it. Just trying to get gifts for my wife and 3 kids is always a challenge, but, for our gang, it was the "Olympics of Shopping"! At one time, they needed to get presents for a dozen kids, ranging in age from preschool all the way to high school-aged kids.

 They did have a plan. We would each get something of our own, usually an article of clothing, that was needed anyway. Then, in groupings by age, we would get a shared item. The older group, about 5 of us, would get some kind of multiple-player game. The middle group would get a construction type toy, like Tinker Toys or Lincoln Logs. The youngest bunch got some dolls or stuffed animals of some kind. There were always some puzzles thrown in that everyone would share.

My twin brother Mike, me, Mom and Dad.

The best part, for me anyway, was the center of the table, where our gifts had been laid out. It had several mixing bowls, each filled with delectable delights. One was various hard candies, my favorite being the ribbons and any filled ones. One bowl was filled with nuts of all sorts, still in the shell, waiting for the nutcracker.  Sometimes one bowl was peanuts, and another only English walnuts. The challenge was cracking them down the middle, leaving two perfect little cups. These treats were not locked up in the pantry, but, available to us all day! Unbelievable!

We usually had a lot of cookies and bars during Christmas. As we got older, we all helped with the baking, so much so, that I can still make oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies by heart.  The Christmas cookies were different though, and needed more supervision by Mom to get them right.  We were occasionally treated to lefse', since my Mom's side of the family was Norwegian. If you get a chance, you should try some, it is delicious. Just writing about this is making me hungry!

 Some of us played in band and sang in choir, so there was usually a couple programs to go to prior to Christmas. I am not sure how Mom and Dad ever kept track of who had to be where and when!
In Fourth grade I was picked to act in the Christmas play. I played one of 3 kids that traveled all around the world with Santa, to see how other countries celebrated Christmas. All I did was sit in the sleigh, with my winter coat on, sweating under the spot lights. I don't recall having to speak once.  What fun.
 
  I am sure your family did many of the same things, maybe just not on the same scale. I hope that you and yours will make some great memories this year!

The Roving Robecks

            It is interesting how you have to stand back after a passage of time to see some patterns in your life, and even your family’s. This is a cross-generational pattern that I have noticed. Our family likes to rove around a bit. Sometimes short distances, sometimes long.

            My great-grandfather on the Robeck side had a steam threshing machine. He and some of the brothers, sons and nephews would leave in August to start threshing in southern Minnesota and would follow the crops north as they were ready for harvest, sometimes not returning home until Thanksgiving. They would sleep in barns and sheds at the farms where they were working. This also meant the women of the family would run the entire farm operation by themselves for several months. The threshers roamed all around the state.

             Some of my brothers and sisters did some roving of their own when they were younger. 

When my sister Maria was in kindergarten, she and our neighbor decided not to ride the bus home. They decided it was a nice day to walk home. Thing is, we lived about 5 miles out of town. When Mom noticed the bus go by and no Maria, she called to see if she had went next door, as she did sometimes. She found out that our neighbor hadn’t come home either, so now two Moms are worried. The school checked, “no, they are not here, they left a while ago, on the bus, they thought”. Well, Mom got in the car and headed into town, finding them about half way home by now. After a little scare, all was well and the teachers made sure the young ladies actually got on the bus after that.

My youngest brother also made a little local trip of his own. He decided he wanted to go fishing. He decided that our Aunt’s house on the Mississippi River would be a great spot. That trip was a little longer, more like 12 miles. It turned out OK, but, another case of a roving Robeck.

In my life, I get around a bit myself, in the Navy, I saw a lot of the world and was stationed in 4 different states. After I got out, I have lived in 4 different states, worked on the road as a field engineer for awhile, went on a mission trip to Russia, and a visit with my wife to Ireland and Northern Ireland.

My daughter, Giselle,  has lived in Seattle for a short while, a little longer in Cinncinati, and travels when she can. My youngest son, Morgan,  is in the Navy, and with his new wife, Rachel, live in Charleston, SC, and are sure to see many places in the world. Riley has yet to venture very far, but, don't count him out yet.

Many of my siblings are now scattered around the country, and some also have traveled abroad for work or missions trips. Some of my nieces and nephews are also following in our footsteps, so the roving continues!

A breath of perfect air.

Having been part of a large family is a different experience, but, not all of my childhood was memorable, only because of that. There are certain memories in our life that have no association with who else was around you. They are just memories that are crystal clear in our mind as the moment that they happened. You don't just remember a part of the event, but, you remember every sound, every smell and feeling surrounding you.

This is what I am sharing today, a moment of perfection.  I got up one summer morning to a beautiful sunny day. I sat down at our kitchen table, a large table my Dad had made to seat our bunch of kids. It was crafted by laying tiles on a sheet of plywood, edging it with a chrome trim, and installing metal legs at each corner. We used it for many years, until it too became too small.

As I sat down for breakfast, usually cold cereal with milk and sugar, I became aware of being in a perfect moment. I could see the fields south of our house though the porch door. The breeze was making waves in the grain field. What a beautiful sight, the wind washing over the field.

The same breeze came through the porch door, gently crossing the kitchen and going out the back door. As it passed through the screen door, it made a sound, a heavenly sound, very hard to describe, unless you have heard it also.  The closest thing in nature is the wind in the branches of a pine forest.

At the same time, the temperature was perfect. It was not so warm as to make you sweat, but, not so cold that you couldn't wear shorts. That was our standard summer apparel, shorts, a t-shirt, and bare feet.

Whenever I need a moment of peace, I bring back my memory of that day. It was over 40 years ago, but, I have enjoy it for a lifetime. I hope you have moments of perfection in your life also. Try not to forget them.