Corn silage when I forked it down out of the silo!
I had completely forgotten about that. Climbing up in the silo at Lloyd's (the guy I worked for) mother's place in the winter. Using a pick to break silage loose, then sending it down, climbing down and spreading it out onto the bunk, getting jostled by bovine heads while I was doing it, and once getting a (thank goodness blunt) end of a horn in the back of my thigh from a head tossed in ecstasy.
