But man, are there troubles about. This is not a walkable city. Too many parking lots and long stretches of road with abandoned buildings in disrepair. Cars drive too fast and worry about other cars, not pedestrians. No inner city parks. Watch out for fucking motorized scooters, they own the place. Watch your step for phlegm on the sidewalk. Listen to a family argue over whether the dad can go to the "rippers" so he can "sink his teeth into some ass" while their child swings at the playground. It's pretty easy to feel disenchanted with the place that you so fondly called home.
Luckily, one sunny afternoon, we escaped to one of the aforementioned little pockets, a place near and dear to me, a mansion called Whitehern. My Mom had planned a March Break itinerary for the girls, which included a Wizard of Oz themed afternoon there. We toured the house looking for ruby slippers, ran through the gardens while following the yellow brick road, and made scarecrows in the old stable house.