We don’t have that many hens. I haven’t counted lately, but I would guess around 35. Some of these hens are three years old, now; they should probably go in a stew pot, but we decided to free-range them for bug control, and if the fox happens to get them…well, that’s too bad, but not the end of the world. The three year olds are pretty savvy anyhow, as they are the ones who survived the foxes in the first place.
So, now that the days are longer and the weather warmer (this weekend’s dump of snow notwithstanding), out of our 35 (ish) hens, we’re suddenly getting 12 or 16 eggs, depending on the day.
A dozen eggs a day. Or a dozen and a half.
It doesn’t sound like a whole lot of eggs. It really doesn’t.
Until you have to figure out what to *do* with them!
It’s actually not a bad problem to have, and I’m lucky to work in a large office, so we haven’t had too much trouble selling off the surplus. We eat some, of course, and feed the ones that are too dirty to bother washing to the dogs in their porridge. There’s also a local food charity we support with occasional donations of the extras that build up.
I’m not sure what we’re going to do when I go on maternity leave, though…