The mulch has also imparted a distinctly rural smell to our environs. Our neighbor was so upset by it that she left a chiding note on our door, complaining that she had been forced to cancel an outdoor barbeque; apparently her guests don't like being attacked by swarms of flies while inhaling lungfuls of recently-lain manure. Wimps. We went over to apologize, and she seemed placated. (I told her that we'd harvested the manure fresh from our own hogs, and offered to give her some. That made her happy, as you would imagine.)
I actually don’t think it smells that bad--nothing like Iowa City in June. Now THAT was a smell.
Anyway, it’s been an eventful weekend. Suburbia is a lot less dull than you might think.