I walk between four and six miles every day. If you call where I live a town, part of that walk takes me out of town where I walk along side approximately forty acres where one of the neighbors pastures thirty or so head of cattle.
I like the smell of cow manure.
Well, not in my house or on my person, but in general I like it. I guess I like it because it reminds me of home. Smells bring memories back like few other things do.
Farm kids never like manure; it's just a fact of farm life. So let's not think I'm crazy because I like the smell of manure. It's probably better to say that I became used to it at an early age. Livestock create it on a regular basis--constantly. There really is no avoiding it. But for some reason the smell of cow manure never really bothered me. Dad never had hogs, except for a short time when I was in elementary school, so I was not exposed to that. I hated the smell of pig manure as a kid and still do. Chickens are an entirely separate issue. Grandma always had chickens, and frankly, nothing smells worse than a chicken house. Nothing. I helped clean out the chicken house on more than one occasion and while it took less time than cleaning out the cattle barn the smell was always worse. Always.
I won't write too many posts about manure. I promise.