Robinwood Lane

My Mom had told us that people in Illinois would be refined - even wearing hats and gloves after dark. Little did I know that hats and gloves were needed to keep from freezing to death! We were kids that never owned a winter coat. We didn't know about leaves changing color - and never had to rake them. None of us remembered snow. 

But now we were in Riverwoods, a section of Deerfield, Illinois. Our house was on Robinwood Lane, a one-mile, one-lane dirt road. There were other houses on our lane, but very few in comparison to Talbot Drive. None of the neighbors seemed to have children our age. We couldn't roller skate outside - thank goodness there was a huge basement we could skate round and round. Every time Cherie would convince me to explore the woods or visit the horses owned by our neighbors, I ended up with poison ivy. I think it was the longest summer of my life. I was miserable those first few months. 

I didn't hate the house. In fact, it's still my favorite home from all our moves. In addition to the terrific tree house and window seat, the house also had a small, walk-in pantry, a laundry chute and large closets. And I had my own bedroom. 

The house was set up with huge, dormitory style rooms at each end of the second floor. Because they were so large, the boys, Tommy, Ricky and Greg shared one room, like they did on Talbot Drive. The first few months we girls played musical bedrooms with my parents, but they finally settled into a small room in the middle of the long hall (my Mom wanted to be within earshot of all the kids). It was the best room because it had the window seat. Barbie & Cherie shared the largest bedroom at the opposite end of the house from the boys. Margie and Susie shared a smaller room, and I got the smallest room. Barbie always said I was such a pain, nobody wanted to share a room with me.  But I was three years younger than Cherie and five years older than Margie, so I didn't fit in with either set of girls. 

There was one and a half bathrooms on the second floor. The half bathroom had a hole built into the floor under a four-foot shelf that we learned was a laundry chute. When dirty clothes were tossed into this hole, they would slide down and end up in a cabinet next to the washer and dryer downstairs. Much easier for my Mom. 

Of course the laundry chute was way too tempting to be used just for clothes. My Mom always found as many toys as clothes when she opened the cabinet to start laundry. It was fun to climb up to the cabinet and hide during hide-and-go-seek, but the older kids were too big to do much more. One day when my parents were out, we learned that when Susie was lowered into the hole, she would slide right down and someone could catch her at the bottom. Then we decided to give Greg a turn. Success! Next was Margie. She eagerly stepped to the hole and we proceeded to put her in the chute. She started to slide down, but never made it to the bottom. She was wedged in the bend the chute made to line up into the cabinet. We tried to pull her out the top - no luck. We tried to pull her feet out the bottom - she didn't budge. Poor Margie was stuck and getting scared. After a long time (probably only 15 minutes, but it seemed like a century), Cherie was finally able to calm her enough that she relaxed and we got her out. She probably told Margie to stop crying because Santa was watching and we'd all be in trouble. 

The house had a detached garage with a bicycle rack made by the previous owners. We thought it was so cool to park our bikes neatly. There was also a ride-on mower (we called it the tractor). In California, our yard was so small Dad cut the grass with a push mower that had sharp whirling blades. But now, there was at least an acre of grass to mow of the three acres that we owned. And rake - the leaves never stopped. My Dad would give us rides in the cart that attached to the mower, usually on a big pile of leaves. I don't remember any of the girls or Mom ever driving the tractor, although Mom did the majority of the raking. Tom learned to mow the lawn, but only with Dad's supervision. There was also a little plow that Dad used to move snow from the garage to the road for their cars. 

We only got to stay in the Deerfield house two and a half years. I made some of my best, life-long friends there. Barbie and Cherie started high school, and Barbie got her first job as a waitress in the local ice cream shop. Tommy played Little League. Margie started kindergarden. Dad ran and won a seat on the City Council. And we got our Christmas baby. Kitty was born two days before Christmas in 1966. Yes, it was short but it seemed much longer because our lives there reflected the stuff movies are made of. 

When my Dad was transferred again, the house was put on the market and advertised as "Mansion in the Woods." It was the only time we moved that I wanted to stay. I believe the time we lived there was the happiest for each of us and for all of us. We just didn't know it then.