Treasure Hunted

               I went on a treasure hunt this afternoon, without realizing that's what I was doing.  Because it was so friggin' hot out, we were hiding in the air conditioning. Bored, we decided to go down cellar to clean.  The place is virtually always a mess, plus it's cool down there.

               Down we went.  I began filling bags with junk.  I had hoped to find the box that some of my old college fraternity stuff was in, because of the reunion we're having this fall.  Instead, I found the mother lode.  My first discovery was a section of a memoir I had written about my college days.  I wrote it at least 35 years ago, and reading brought so much back.  I plan on sharing it with my friends from the past.  I also found a note written to me by my high school creative writing teacher, the teacher I credit most with nourishing my love of writing.  That note is going into a folder I keep that's filled with special correspondence from over the years.  And finally, I found the entire, original manuscript of that bad horror novel I wrote back in the early seventies.  It was called THE FIELD, and it caused a lot more interest than I had anticipated when I blogged about it a month or so ago.  It is handwritten and/or typed on a half dozen different kinds of paper, and apparently, a wind came along at some time in the last 30 odd years and blew the manuscript in every direction.  I have found the first few pages, though, and someday soon, I will let that purple prose serve as my blog for the day.