Alright, confession time: for the past three years my parents have lived next to an expansive recreation park aaaand... I only stepped foot in there a few months ago.
hang. head. shame.
The too-hard basket is overflowing with potential reasons slash excuses: a[nother] sick pregnancy, an unwell infant, the mombie haze, and a tendency for our reli-bashes* to occur within a ten metre radius of the dining room table. Hmm. It still doesn't quite add up, but oh well - this one will just have to be put down to a case of c'est la vie.
The good news is visits to Grandma and Pops' place have taken on an extra dimension since realising the park lies before us. Walks now feature as a key agenda item: the gumboots are gleefully put on, spare clothes packed, the dog runs in wild circles of anticipation, and off we venture. We descend down a dirt track and then find ourselves able to select from numerous walking trails, any of which will have us follow and traverse small creeklines lined with towering River Red Gums and South Australian Blue Gums.
