When I was a child we had milk and bread delivery to our home. It was brought in by a milkman and a breadman with a horse drawn cart. Of course as the horses plodded down the street they would, at times, drop a pile of manure here and there. When this happened it was up to me to grab the shovel and pail and scrape it up. I then mixed it with soil in the garden in back. It made an excellent fertilizer.
Speaking of manure, poop, dung, excrement, shit, crap or whatever you want to call it. Brings this to mind. When I had the little shop in Copper Harbor. Mich. a way up on the Keeweenaw Peninsula jutting out into the cold waters of Lake Superior, I would have to blow the water lines at the end of the fall season. The shop would be shut down for the winter season and everything in it would freeze. Years ago I came back to Copper Harbor for two weeks in January. I had power and kept two small heaters going in one small room. I would have to walk about three blocks to the home of my brother-in-law to use his bathroom. This procedure went well until one day I had to go badly. It was a matter of going here in my place or in my pants. I elected to go into my work shop in back. I spread some newspapers on the floor and squated. It was a rather soft and runny bowl movement. It spread flat and round like a dish. The temperature was about five below zero and the wind was howling. When I was done I went back into my one warm room. When I say warm I wore my parka all the time.
After about two hours I went to the back and found the crap which was frozen solid. I peeled off the newspaper (using my garden gloves) went outside and like a Greek discus thrower or a frizzbee player threw it into the snowy woods. It sailed beautifully and hit the trunk of a pine tree and shattered into a thousand pieces.