I’ve got them. Twice a year, every year, without even being asked my lovely eco friendly farmer delivers me a large pile of steaming cack.
Its brilliant stuff, I shovel it into the compost bins, let it degrade for a year and then use it.
By the time the second bucket load of the year arrives the first lot has rotted down enough for me to fill the bin.
For the first few years he looked at me a touch oddly when I asked if he had some to spare, shook his head slightly in disbelief, but delivered, these days, when its the season, if he sees me he just gives me the nod and appears sometime shortly afterwards.
Tis lovely stuff, but by Odin’s beard it smells when it first arrives.