The Ghastly Infertility of Book-Book

No Tiger, I'm talkin' 'bout infertility. It's not the same, you bastard.

Anyhoo, Book-Book is broody. Somehow I know this is the correct term, in spite of the fact that I've never kept hens nor written a manual on the subject...

Her character changed profoundly overnight. One minute she was a perky, strutting, tomato-stripping lettuce-eater (and strawberry-pecker - the bitch!); the next, she was a strangely still, flattened version of herself. She has been sitting in a particular possie now for three days, blinking occasionally and turning two-dimensionally on her axis. Jack showed us how you can pick up a broody hen, pinch her eggs, and set her down again with nary a peck! I now have enough eggs (what with one thing and another, but it's a long and tedious story) to make 18 pavlovas.

Meanwhile, Book-Book sits optimistically on. She really, REALLY is not very bright. If she were my daughter, I would remain very supportive, but actually be quite... well... disappointed. Luckily my daughter is terribly clever, and can do remarkable things, such as get 100% in her grade 5 musical theory exam. Let's hope I never catch her sitting on her eggs...