Siblings, Offspring Equal a Houseful

I was in charge of counting beds, which meant first I had to count the heads which would go into the beds.
The number of beds remained constant but the number of heads changed daily.
My family, which consists of myself, husband and eight children, was gathered at my parents' summer place in Fontana on Geneva Lake, WI, with all the members of my extended family, which includes my parents, my three brothers, four sisters, their spouses and children.
You'll probably be relieved, as my parents were, that none of my siblings has produced as many offspring as I have.
Nevertheless, it was a houseful. The house that always had extra space when I was merely one of eight was bulging to the rafters now that I am also the mother of eight.
As you can imagine, this bed-and head counting was a tough job, but my able assistant Barbara- my New Jersey sister - and I accepted the challenge of heading up the family's bedding down.
My mother wanted to get onto the act, but we nixed the idea and instructed her to concentrate on praying for good weather and no bugs so we could eat outside.
Early on, Barbara and I realized there were several more heads than beds. The attic ordinarily sleeps 14 but for this assemblage we decided to stretch it to 17.
The "hen house," which is my dad's name for the attic because in the summers of old it housed his five daughters and our continual influx of girlfriends, can no longer be just for hens because all of his hens have mated and now have little chicks, mostly male.
Out first executive decision was for an integrated attic.
Our second edict was, "You sleep where we tell you and be happy about it." This meant everyone had to be nice to Barbara and me in hopes of alighting for the night in a comfortable spot, as opposed to the two lawn cushions pushed together, or on a leaky air mattress.
If you were lucky you could be assigned to what we refer to as the honeymoon suite. It comes complete with a baby crib. The porch swing was another coveted spot, as was the porch floor. I didn't strong-arm anyone to take either of those perches.
No one was exempt form these rulings except Grandma and Grandpa Barrett. Everyone had to be nice to them since it is their house and we all want to be invited back next year.
Plus, their bedroom is the only one exempt from our manipulation. We never once considered putting their mattress on the floor and having three kids sleep on the box springs.
Once we had the sleeping arranged, next on the agenda was the inevitable family picture. All the brothers and sisters had not been together since the last family wedding, so my mother was almost as determined about getting a new picture as she was about us not leaving out "stuff" all over the place, junking things up. Believe me, that is determination.
Just because we were all together at Lake Geneva didn't mean we were ever all assembled at the lakefront where the picture was to be taken. The picture's subjects were either swimming in, sailing on, flying over in my brothers' small plane, or snoozing on the raft in the lake. The sleepers were usually the ones with the crummy bed assignments.
Finally, the photo-opportunity order was issued and all complied. We knew our evening meal depended on being there and smiling prettily.
The resulting snapshot is a portrait of a very relaxed group in swimming suits, shorts and bare feet who were glad to be together.
August 24, 1988