Eggs

We decided to let the broody hen sit on some eggs. In fact, when I realized she was serious about sitting, I placed a few guinea eggs next to her, confident that she would tuck them under her feathered warmth as part of her maternal instinct. 'Maternal' may be the wrong word. 'Brooding' instinct is probably more precise.

Brooding? How is this avian behavior connected to the human mood called 'brooding'? When I am in such mood, am I going inward, stilling myself, settling into a period of reduced activity, forgoing food and water, as part of a great plan to develope some new life form?

More and more eggs arrive. I gather them each evening, some for our breakfast pleasure, most to sell. Then RNB mentions the incubator. Last year we hatched thirty chicks there. We are more busy this year than ever so I am grossly reluctant to deliberately create more work, not only now with incubator tending, but also later with chick tending and then chicken tending... I'm in one of those moods (brooding?) where I can exhaust myself thinking ahead to all the worry and work that goes hand in hand with adding a few dozen lives to our farm. I survived lambing, and now this?

I am determined to learn two things. (More than two actually, but for today's focus, two will do.)

I am determined to learn to communicate my needs and wishes in a pleasant voice, projecting the assumption that the receiver of my communications is a willing partner ready to help meet my needs.

I am determined to learn when someone tells me they will take responsibility for something that jointly impacts 'us', that they will indeed be trustworthy, and that I don't even need to carry some small question in my mind about said trustworthiness.

Phew. I have high expectations of myself. I wonder if I can engage someone near and dear to me with the responsibility of keeping my personal incubator of aspirations in good working condition so that my eggs-pectations can come to life?