The nest with no name.

Trixie, as you know, is not laying, with the exception of the odd fart egg. But she tries. Oh, dear lord, she tries. She is on the nest every day, trying. She runs to me, frantically, squatting for what passes for fertilisation around here. And she is forever inventing nests.

She hopes that each new nest will be the answer. When it isn’t, she deserts it for the next magical nest. It’s amusing, but I feel bad for her, too; she is clearly distressed by her inability to lay. There’s not much point in naming Trixie’s new nests, because she goes through them like Kleenex.

This is a parallel story to Hermione, of course, who can lay just fine, but who needs a nest that is über-private and not used by any other hen. Problem is, she founds these great places to lay, and…chicken see, chicken do. Not so private, anymore. Hermione’s finds tend to become the hot, new place to lay, and, so, they get names, if only for convenience of conversation.

Yesterday morning, I was in the barn when I heard an odd scratching sound behind me. I turned to find Hermione, perched at my eye level, trying to scratch a nest for herself in the open top of The Man’s largest toolbox, sitting atop his cluttered workbench. It was an hilarious sight, so I rushed into the house to get my phone, but she was gone when I returned.

She had been chased away from the workbench by Trixie, amid some of the worst caterwauling I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard plenty. Trixie haunts the workbench for new nests, and it’s hers, I guess.

Here is her latest: she rounded out a comfy, snug nest from some plastic bags that were on the workbench:

The Man’s lack of organisation serves her purpose nicely.

She was back this morning, and, as she hasn’t laid a fart egg in a while, I decided to check the now-empty nest. I found a fart egg alright…and an Hermione egg, too.

So, until The Man gets fed up with it, this nest will likely need a name, now that Hermione has given it her seal of approval, and all the accompanying flock-wide cachet that implies.

I’m open to suggestions. I’m remembering that great children’s book The Paper Bag Princess, and wondering if this mightn’t be The Plastic Bag Nest.

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