… been shovelling shit. Well, manure, to be exact. This is the sort of thing I used to say back when I had a proper job and the bullshit was metaphorical; the real stuff is harder work (as my arms and shoulders are busy telling me) but ultimately much more useful, as I think I’ve mentioned before. Anyway, we’re finishing up the old pile ready to get a fresh load of ordure and the old stuff, where it hasn’t been converted entirely into nettles is just lovely: chocolatey-dark and rich yet crumbly like a decent brownie. Unfortunately, since yesterday’s rain, it’s now surrounded by a moat of simlarly dark boot-sucking liquid. The only way to operate safely is to stand on top of the pile, slicing downwards through the solid stuff with a shovel and then scooping it out and flinging it into the wheelbarrow.
It was about half-way through this process that I realised what it was it reminded me of. As a child, my absolute favourite pudding of all time was chocolate fudge pudding which was basically a cake, baked in a bath of chocolate sauce. The result was a moist, rich, chocolatey yet crumbly cake in a moat of … well, you get the picture. I think I might have to get that image out of my head before I tuck in with quite such relish again.
Your obvious literary prowess is being amply demonstrated today. Although, it perhaps could be argued that you’re just a wee bit too caught up in the delights of shovelling it. Could go either way.
For my part, any memories of shovelling this sort of cr*p is in no way associated with the delights of chocolate pudding. It was the real thing, and I was way too young and too small to be loading a manure spreader with nothing but a pitch fork. (the type with five tines, as opposed to the three tined hay variety.)
It was only in later years that I was introduced to this thing called a “front end loader”, a clever grunt saving device that was attached to the front end of a tractor. Hazzah! What an invention!
Have fun with that barrow. Remember to unload from the high side.
Oh… manure, I forgot that I need to get on and order some of that myself.
Oh lovely. It just makes me want to make brownies this weekend! …and I’ve also got lovely brown stuff to distribute
Bob – there’s a downside to having a vivid imagination, I find
Andy – glad to be of service
Emma – you’re made of sterner stuff than I am, evidently
Did someone say cake?
You’re obsessed, woman!