“The problem with books is that they end,” writer, author and all-round world champion blogger, Victoria Ray wrote recently. I didn’t immediately read her entire post as I was too busy disagreeing with her supposition.
Her words tossed me back into my ninth-year of life, when for Christmas someone, (more than likely a gift from the local VFW Hall that year,) gave me the book, “Treasure Island,” by Robert Louis Stevenson. I poured through that book, even reading it after light’s out to my brother, who was still in the throes of learning to read.
The adventures from that tome did not end with the final page.
In fact, that’s when the real adventure began as Adam and I became the bestest pirates, buccaneers and privateers in our neighborhood. What a blast we had that summer as we even built a raft (we claimed it to be our makeshift Brigantine,) but lost it to the fast flow of High Prairie Creek after forgetting to tie a rope to the frame to hold her on the bank of the creek.
Thank you for the memory-trigger, Victoria. Ship-ho!
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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