Thneedless to Say

The Only Boots He's Worn to Phantom  In February of 2024, I hiked to Phantom Ranch from the Grand Canyon's South Rim, via the 7.3-mile South Kaibab Trail with my brother Tad. This hike is somewhat of a reverend pilgrimage in my immediate family.  The only boots that Tad has  worn to Phantom Ranch. Somewhere along the way down to Phantom Ranch, on one of our many rests, Tad observed that the heel was peeling away from the upper part of the boot. He wondered if his boots would make it back up.   When he delivered our duffle/duffel bag to the Mule Duffle Drop off in Phantom Ranch on Friday morning, he noticed a sort of closet filled with shoes in Phantom Ranch. This was somewhat comforting to me to know they have this shoe collection down there (for I had worried, What if, in leaving my muddy boots on the ground outside my tent, a pesky little coyote decides to grab them as his chew toy? ). But, can you imagine trekking back up in, say, someone's old and ill-fitting flip flops

Getting Clogged by the Stuff As I approach 50 and see how psychologically and professionally "clogged" I am getting, I recognize more clearly how the accumulation of stuff in my home is a mental health problem that is only going to get worse. I have a spacious house that has several rooms that just store this cherished stuff. 10 years ago, we moved into this house, and I still have several large plastic tubs of the papers I scooped from my previous home office for moving into my new one. Upon arrival in the new home office, I was going to sift through and organize these cherished papers. I did nothing of the sort. I somehow set up a new office and began generating new piles that sufficed. The old pile, cozy in its bucket in the next room, is a time capsule of who and what I was (in terms of the papers I produce) in 2013-2014.  I have many other piles of things that I am keeping, but why?   I am sure there is a great book or TED talk on hoarding or whatever we're calling i