My family has raised chickens for both meat and eggs since I was a kid, and the memories that came with that are irreplaceable.
We had a few ‘fugitive chicks’ last summer that we had borrowed from my mothers farm for a couple weeks while living in the suburbs. The landlords had been away on vacation so, equipped with a rabbit hutch and a backyard edged with some very dense cedars, we managed a brief experience with urban farming smack dab in the middle of our neighboring townhomes! Now that we are outside city limits I’m crossing my fingers and hoping beyond measure that next spring I’ll finally be able to get my own coop & flock!
First is the perfect inspiration from Ana White. She offers detailed plans on how to redo a dresser into this cute little chick hutch. It looks fantastic for a chick’s first few weeks when you want to keep a close eye on them, either in the barn, in the house, or perhaps for a school project?! Cheap, easy, and totally genius!
On a slightly grander scale we have the chicken coop from The Vintage Bag Lady, who seems to know how to put together a pretty classy coop! I love the continued simplicity of this coop that makes it look easy to put together and easy to maintain, with a bit of glitz and glam… for the chickens of course.
For those with a little more ambition there is always… The Dream Coop. If you haven’t already heard of The Fancy Farmgirl go check her out now! Her work offers so much inspiration and passion it’s not hard to get caught up her enthusiasm! Although she does fully admit to the amount of work it takes to keep it clean, I can only imagine!
With these three as my main inspiration I can already pick out a few things I absolutely want for my coop…
1. White washed walls
2. A chandelier
3. Crown molding & hanging frames
A Brief Story from My Childhood : Every farming child has ‘The’ story. That one that you tell again and again because, honestly, you just can’t get enough. This one might not that ‘The’ story, but it definitely comes close!
My family would normally get near on 300 chicks a year that we would raise for meat and send to the butcher come summers end. We’d eat them ourselves and pass the extras onto family, friends, and neighbors. One year we had considerably less and my step-father decided that instead of wasting money sending them to the butcher for so few he would complete the task himself. Lo-and-behold my school bus pulls up in front of the house later that day to dead chickens hanging from the apple tree in the front yard as he bled them out and plucked them. Picture children rushing to the one side of the bus with their hands and faces pressed up against the glass; gasping, screaming, questioning the sanity of my family. We didn’t turn into the resident voodoo family but I never quite lived it down either.