Happy Birthday to Beatrice!

Yes, there's a first time for everything!

This is the only day of the year that I can give my sister Beatrice shit and not get her mad!
And look! It has your name all over it!

Compost- the black gold that will make your garden the envy of all the other gardeners! And piles and piles of it... delivered by the producers directly to your Cromwell garden.
Just look; even in the dead of winter, flowers sprout, as if by magic:

And we've arranged to have it shipped, factory fresh-

(Yup! that's the factory) straight to you by the truckload, eliminating (get it?) the middle man. (Actually, it's been perfectly aged in our open-air aging chambers and tossed and rotated lovingly.)
So... Happy Birthday to you, Beatrice!
xxoo
Rita, Bob, Jules the Dog and (most importantly) Maggie the Mexican Pony.
(I had to do something different! You'll either love this or hate it...)