Something in the air

On our second visit to what was to become our new home, Jane warned us that the farmer who owns the land around us would be spreading manure from time to time. I smiled. Although I'm from the city, we used to drive through the country, and the smell of cow manure reminds me of wide, open fields and my childhood. It's strong, but not objectionable. No problem.

In mid-February, six weeks after moving in, snow ploughs started clearing snow about 300 yards to the east and west of us. I was curious but unconcerned.

Shortly thereafter, massive tractor trailers started dumping manure, and the sight of them heading into the fields filled me with quiet dread. I watched in morbid fascination as they dumped load after load, sometimes late into the night, a stone's throw away from us. And it didn't bode well.

At some point, I went outside - and the smell made my eyes water, made me gag, and nearly brought me to my knees. I had nothing to compare it to, and nothing could have prepared me for the putridness of it. I dashed back inside. For the first time, I wondered if moving here had been a mistake.

I didn't know what it was, but I knew it wasn't cow manure. Turns out it was chicken manure - chicken manure slurry. And I can assure you that it may be the most vile smelling stuff on earth.

None of us wanted to leave to go anywhere - not for groceries, not for mail, not for anything. And if I did have to go out, I held my breath until I was in the car with the windows up and the doors closed.

And it wasn't just the smell. As Emily put it, you couldn't even opt to breathe through your mouth because it felt like it got into your mouth as well. I've gone through the thesaurus looking for a word strong enough to describe that fetid smell, and nothing does it justice. It smells - evil.

I wondered if it was just us, being city folk and all, but, no, the neighbours were as horrified as we were. Mark said it was "just ignorant" to dump all that so close to our house. And Grace was upset that she couldn't hang laundry on the line or leave her house. Even Chimney Man Dan commented on it when he was here installing our wood stove. "Whew! I grew up on a farm, and I never smelled anything like that!"

We kept candles and aromatherapy diffusers lit in the house for a week, which is about how long it took for the smell to subside - or for us to get used to it. Actually, by the end of a week it had dissipated considerably. At least it was bearable. But the smell wasn't entirely gone until later that spring, after they'd worked it into the soil and done the planting and we'd had the first good rain.

The good news is they only do this every few years. There now, that's not so bad, is it?!

And so here's a list of manures in order of nasty, from worst to best (according to some):

• chicken
• rabbit
• pig / sheep
• cow
• horse (which has almost no smell and isn't at all disgusting)

Happy farming!