Thirty-first and final daily compost of bittersweet, grapefruit-like happiness.

What better time for a little end-of-march plot line humor?

Sweet partings fellow marchers. T’was everything I needed it to be plus some. Whether you’ve found the daily composts useful, amusing, irritatingly clever, or just irritating, I’ve enjoyed being your compost turner for all days but say, six or so. Here we are at the doorstep of April and I should sign off before I start making manure jokes.

Here’s to you and your battle-worn pen,

Your friendly neighborhood literary poop expert, Randi.

(with emergency guest composter extraordinaire, Sam)

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