We've been fortunate in our chicken farming experiences, in that our hens continue laying faithfully throughout the dark days of winter. I hear of farms where there are few eggs to be had when the daylight hours are scarce. We collect every day at about ten o'clock, wash any really dirty eggs (which are few and far between), and plan the week's egg meals.
Sometimes this daily rhythm is shaken up by a surprise, like this tiny egg we found the other day. The girls were delighted, and Jude was convinced that there was a wee little chicken inside it. Then they decided we should fry it up. Jude ate it with ketchup and claimed it tasted just right.