What I've Learned About Coops

It has been four weeks now and our chicken coop is not finished.

Chicken coop frame

The old adage that everything takes twice as long as you think it will is wrong. In our case, everything takes five times as long as we think it will. 

Despite good directions, adequate materials and basic skills, we have run into constant problems. Digging out for the concrete piers we ran into large roots and at least one electrical wire. We also discovered how difficult it is to get a nine foot by six foot coop frame onto seven sunken concrete blocks so that the frame rests perfectly square on the blocks. Difficult? Try impossible. Then we discovered that poultry staples are bastards. They seem more perfectly designed to ensure smashed fingers than securing wire placement. I learned that when Jim says his saw is dull at the beginning of the project, he will forget that by the middle of the project and will be cursing and swearing and wondering why the #$%@^ he can't make a straight cut. A new $5 blade could have saved us hours of heartache. 


I also learned that I need a great deal more patience than I have: more knitting is in order. 

And now that I think of it, I probably could have knitted this coop a lot easier and faster. Something to remember for next time.

Here are a few other things I have learned:

When Jim says, "Wash that linoleum glue off your hands right now while it will still come off," he is only being hopeful. The linoleum glue will never come off. Or at least not until I get in the shower: then it will come off in my hair.

It is not easier to shovel wet dirt. Our dirt turns into clay when it gets wet. Evil, sticky, world-domination type clay that sticks to everything: rakes, shovels, hoes, picks, shoes, crocs, socks, tools, cords, netting, fencing, pencils, grass, fingernails.... This clay takes days to remove. Best not to bother the soil. Ever. Again.

Tool belts are handy things.

The directions are always wrong. At least once. Maybe more.

Lumber is not cheap.

The people at Home Depot and Lowes will laugh at you when you tell them you need linoleum for a chicken coop. Then they will regale you with urban farming stories of their own. Good times!

It might not seem like there's a deadline, but when the chickens are flying and the bathroom stinks like chicken poo, the deadline is real and it has already passed.

Here's the #1 Lesson I learned from building this coop--and the one I most want to pass on to those of you thinking of starting your own backyard flock:

Buy the pre-fab coop online! Pay the $500 (or more). It will be cheaper in the long run. And it will probably save your marriage.