Oil in soil

We're trying to get Andrew interested in the world rather than his TV set so we come up with places to visit and drag him along. Last weekend we decided to go the Glendale Historical district (if you can describe an area that seems to have developed in the 1940's as historical). He seemed to enjoy the afternoon.

On our way back we drove along MacDowell road heading east. The lights at the intersection of MacDowell, 19th Avenue and Grand Avenue take a long time to turn green. (Grand Avenue runs at 45 degrees to both MacDowell and 19th). The area is industrial. It was a hot day and the atmosphere had that unmistakeable tincture of oil mixed with soil. Andrew complained loudly about the smell. To be honest, so did my wife. But I loved it. It took me back quite a few years. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Andrew was unimpressed when I told him that when and where I grew up that smell permeated the atmosphere.

Doubtless his kids will be similarly unimpressed when and if he smells the odour of fermenting milk and it takes him back to 2005...