I could not sleep last night, knowing the inevitable. I do not want chicks yet, so removing eggs from Madam Poulette is important, I think...
Sugar Plum!! showed me exactly how to pick her up, so here I am with gardening gloves on, dungarees and wellies - ready to do this dreadfully dastardly deed. Madam takes one look at me and already she is growling at me - I snarl back "give me a break please" I beg. I spread my hands out as Malcolm showed me yesterday; already I feel inadequate, his hands are the size of dinner plates, mine small saucers. "Go for it Carol" I tell myself. At speed I enfold my hands over her back and should be wings, I turned my head away, "How can something so simple be so difficult" I mutter. She struggles and pecks at my gardening gloves "Ouch" I shout out, but she does not hurt me, safe with the gloves on. Then suddenly she is out of my grip and plops down hard on the floor. Yes, I had dropped Madam Poulette. I am devastated with myself and know immediately that I should have held her more firmly. "Oh, I am so sorry", I say to her "You did not deserve that, please forgive me" and so I go on being totally pathetic, pleading forgiveness from a chicken...
3 eggs I remove from Madam Poulette's nest and slowly make my way back to sanity, shaken to the core. "Where the hell is Sugar Plum when I need him,". Its too early for a well needed nip of Calvados, so I settle for a strong coffee and read up more from my Poultry Bible. "Not that it seems to be doing me much good so far" But I must pursue the cause...
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