One of my favorite childhood memories is from one winter when all our family (mom, dad, me, and my younger brother) got a nasty flu and stayed home for a week or so. We were all feeling miserable, the four of us lying and resting in our parents' bed... it wasn't the best of times. Until my dad came up with the idea of a family read-aloud - and my mom chose a book for the occasion, and a great book at that - "Treasure Island" by Robert Louis Stevenson. All of a sudden, our miserable week was transformed. Mom and dad took turns reading, for 20 minutes or so at a time - they were also sick, after all! - and my brother and I listened and talked about the adventures of Jim and his friends and the pirates between the reads-aloud. In his beautiful poem "Block City" Stevenson described this sweeping feeling of a child's imagination running wild during imaginary games: What are you able to build with your blocks? Castles and palaces, temples and docks. Rain may k