I walk to work once or twice a week. I walk down to the Hobart Rivulet, then along the rivulet track to the big hill where Boags wouldnt sell their riverside land to the council. Then up to the point where that track heads back down to the rivulet, and onto another track even steeper, up many steps and dirt ramps to the top of Liverpool Crescent. Up here people build stilt houses where only their front doorstep touches the ground. I guess on the other side of the road its their back doorstep.
There is a beautiful overview of South Hobart from here. Then along to Forest Road where there is a stunning view downriver to Bruny Island and Storm Bay. Then down and up and down and up through West Hobart to the old red brick church where I work. It takes about 40 minutes, its just about the only exercise I get and its nice. I'm pretty lucky I think.
Marcus is having little manic episodes where we have to shout to be heard, and it is very frustrating. He is wrapped up in his own world, muttering, cackling and blowing raspberries. If you ask "would you like some juice?" as a distraction, you get "Bood boo bike some boose!!!" and more cackling. I think it is "age appropriate" as the pundits say but it drives me nuts.
I asked the Tooth Gods for help and they responded. Tooth 3 appeared yesterday in Michael's mouth.