Last week on the Art of Doing Stuff, Karen professed her love of chicken coops and shared images readers had submitted of their coops.
Her post inspired me to get out and investigate our chicken coop. I confess, this is a spot that I usually prefer to avoid.
Karen wrote, “some of the most dilapidated coops are among my favourites.”
Well, dilapidated is a good descriptor of our coop. If you’re feeling charitable, you might call it rustic. Usually, I tend to just call it gross.
I’ve seen some coops with chandeliers and artwork. The leaky roof in ours has started to form stalactites, which I guess could be considered sculpture.
And in case you’re starting to wonder, you are in fact correct. The coop has not been cleaned out. Likely not for several years. (Warning: The next photo may spoil your appetite).
The coop is cozily tucked into the west side of the barn under the pines. The worn barn boards, old mullioned windows and generous size are appealing. The abandoned water and food dishes in the run, the layers and layers of manure inside and the overall dilapidated state both inside and out are decidedly not appealing.
I’m planning on adding geese, ducks and chickens to the farm someday, and they will need a home–a better home than this coop. My Dad (the general contractor) upon seeing the coop for the first time suggested that dynamite might be the best solution. We probably will end up starting over, but we’ll likely still end up more on the rustic side of coop design–I can’t see myself putting a chandelier in a chicken coop.
If you’re looking for some slightly more inspiring coops than ours (albeit no chandeliers), check out what Art of Doing Stuff readers submitted. And while you’re there, make sure to check out Karen’s own coop which completely puts ours to shame. Even though she says her hens don’t care how their coop looks, I don’t think Walnut and the ladies would be too happy if their home was anything like ours.