There are some very sound arguments for Terryville being a quaint little New England town, with that small community culture in the midst of other great centers of activity (New York and Boston being two hours in either direction). A place to live the quiet life in relative peace and harmony. I might've been able to convince even myself of that idea.

Right up until I had to pitchfork four tons of manure out of the back of a pick-up truck this afternoon - then all that sentimentality went straight out the window.

Because surely there is no better way to experience a beautiful Saturday afternoon then with lots and lots of cow crap ("manure" is a nice word for it, sounds French). The smell of the stuff is just, well, it's indescribable. Fills the nose of both die hard gardner and casual passerby with profound appreciation for Mother Nature. Hell, take some of that stuff, let it dry out for a few days, and you can use it as potpourri. Put it in a bathroom or something so it can greet you every morning. Better yet, gift wrap it for a friend. Talk about a cheap gift! Farmers charge next to nothing for you to take this stuff away by the truckload. Can't imagine why.

Shoveling it is great, too. Good exercise. Especially on a warm day when all that sunshine can evaporate the sweat off you as soon as it hits your forehead. And it's so lightweight, it practically shovels itself into the backyard! Which is convenient if you're planning on buying two truckloads and getting more crap for your peso. Do you like blisters? Who doesn't?! Give it enough time and that pitchfork will give all the blisters you can handle. Adds plenty of blue collar character to your otherwise bourgeoisie hands.

Oh, and don't worry about bugs. They won't bother you. They'll be so focused on all that manure that they won't even think about biting you where you can't scratch (or don't want to scratch for fear of getting manure all over yourself).

I know right about now you're ready to get a few friends together to ride down to the nearest farm to get a hold of some manure for yourself, but hold on just a second - I haven't told you the best part yet. Taking care of this stuff will kill, and I mean absolutely butcher, any spare time you might have been stuck with this afternoon. It'll take that three hours of nothing and turn it into a fabulous period of farm work. There is absolutely zero chance of getting bored. And if you do, you'll be too tired to even know what boredom is.

Now you may wonder why you would take a pick-up truck to get all this stuff instead of just renting a dump truck. Sure, you could do that if you wanted, but then you'd be missing out on all this fun! And your parents will save a lot of money by using you as forced labor instead of paying for that dump truck, believe me. If you do manage to have a little extra money, do yourself a favor and buy more manure. Then maybe a whip for when the neighbors' kids come over to help.

Just think: if you lived in a suburban neighborhood like a normal person, you wouldn't get to experience any of this! Think about how deprived you would be. Deprived of experience and exhaustion and pain and character, freakin' character, man.

That's what makes a Saturday afternoon!