Not unlike pregnancy, building our chicken coop took about 9 months of hard work, worrying, waiting, and wondering. Along the way, we appreciated the journey for all its highs and lows, successes and disappointments, lessons and memories. There was blood, sweat, and tears...And with one final push, we brought our dream into the world--nearly a year after welcoming our third (human) baby.
Our journey began as an inkling: "Would you ever want chickens someday?" I asked my husband. It was March, 2014 in Vermont. On a whim, we stopped by a nearby farm, which happened to be hosting a heritage breed chicken show. It was the first time I'd seen such fanciful birds, among them a comically beautiful Polish hen. "Kind of," he replied, with a glint in his eye. Life passed us by... We were both working full time, our home sitting on a quarter acre in a closely packed suburb of Boston. No place for chickens, we figured. Ah well... Our chicken musings would have to be just that...
When we added our first two children to our family and moved to our current home a few towns away, it wasn't long before the topic of chickens came up again. With more land and a more rural community--including horses just across the street--the opportunity beckoned. A local feed store was hosting a chicken-keeping workshop, which we excitedly attended. Two months later, Covid and a positive pregnancy test rocked our world. Despite the fear and frustration of being pregnant in a pandemic, it was the perfect opportunity to cozy up as a family and start designing our future. So, in January 2021, with a newborn and two toddlers--all under the age of 4--we finally set to work making our coop. We began by scouring the web for information on chicken coops. The workshop we attended had given us great starting points: avoid rinky-dink pre-fab coops, focus on predator-proofing, add ventilation, ventilation, and then add some more ventilation. My husband, seeing a fellow attendee showing off his coop, was immediately competitive: "I can do better," he said to me on the car ride home.
It didn't take much Googling to come across Carolina Coops. It was love at first sight. The roof, the windows, the nesting boxes, the attached run, the back hatch that opens up for easy cleaning. Even if they weren't so expensive, my husband couldn't pass up a DIY challenge, so we resolved to build one ourselves. Basing a coop design off Carolina Coops is nothing new, but we wanted to put our own spin on ours. We have little experience building--certainly nothing this complex. My husband--a self-taught DIYer--had tackled basic woodworking, electrical, plumbing, ceiling joists, drywalling, flooring, tiling, masonry, and general "honey-do's" around the house. And yet, embarking on something as seemingly simple as a chicken coop proved to be daunting. We watched countless YouTube videos on construction, including those of other folks determined to achieve the champagne Carolina Coops look on a beer budget. With our combined skills and a leap of faith, we felt confident enough to try.
Refining the window design...
Getting closer to the final design... (ignore the measurements; those were changed)
Sketching out the back hatch of the coop...
As you can see, our initial sketches and "plans"--if you can call them that--were pretty rudimentary and not illustrative of the final result. In fact, it wasn't until I decided to enter the contest that I discovered my husband had even kept these. I figured, like most projects we tackle, that the sketches and notes would be crumpled up in the recycling bin or stuffed in a drawer never to be seen again. Not having formal plans wasn't so bad in actuality. Since we knew my husband's full-time schedule as a project manager and my full-time schedule as a baby manager left us little time, we approached the project in phases. As we went, we'd make little notes and rough sketches. In a way, focusing on one bit at a time made the process less daunting. We knew that taking our time and focusing on craftsmanship was more important than rushing to fill the coop with birds, even if it meant getting them later than we wanted. At various points, we'd scrap ideas altogether, having read the insightful wisdom of long-tenured BYC denizens. Making things up as we went along gave us the freedom to modify things as necessary. There was something freeing and, dare I say fun, about not having an enormous and intimidating plan laid out in front of us. Even without formal plans, I hope that for those inspired by our build, this article and the accompanying photos prove to be a useful starting point. After all, there is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to chicken coops. Follow your dream.
Before we broke ground, we thought long and hard about where on our property the coop should go. Our town bylaw on animal enclosures requires that it be 100' away from any adjacent dwelling. Using Google Maps' "Measure Distance" feature, we played around with different options. We decided on the southern side, which is lined with mature trees, offering ample shade. It's the coolest part of our yard, which can be unbelievably hot in the summer. It's also obscured from the view of neighbors (although, who wouldn't want to look at this thing?). We next thought about size... Which led us to think about chicken math... We decided 6-9 birds was the most we could reasonably manage (4-5 at the least, if some were to succumb to illness or injury). So, we needed a coop that could accommodate a wide range of birds. We settled on a henhouse footprint of 6'x5'. We knew that, like Carolina Coops, we wanted the coop to be raised off the ground and attached to a run, all under one roof. The look is streamlined but it also minimizes the potential for rain/leaf matter to accumulate between various rooflines. We weren't sure how big of a run to go with, but decided on 6'x16'. This gives us 96sqft--enough for our max of 9 birds and perfect for our starting goal of 6 birds.
I'll get into the nitty-gritty of how we built this, but first, a quick snapshot of the main dimensions of the coop:
We began by leveling the ground where the coop would be built--no easy task! We didn't realize how sloped our yard was until this point--on two axes! Much loam and tamping later, we got it to where we wanted. We were wary of setting a wood structure--even pressure-treated--directly on earth, so we created a border of pavers in the dimensions of our coop/run. This would be where the structure rests on. In addition to mitigating rot, it would further help with predator proofing. The corners are reinforced with the pavers sitting on buried cinder blocks.
Saw in hand, construction began! We started with the henhouse itself, clearing space in our garage for its construction. Being in New England means that it would have been impractical to work outside. Moisture from rain, snow, and ice would have wreaked havoc on it, and since we don't have a separate, detached shed or garage, this was the best we could do. To minimize the amount of wood used and save time and work, the 2x4s that form the basic structure also act as the exterior-facing trim. We beefed up the structure with a grid-style floorboard pattern and diagonal supports on each "leg."
Before we could move our coop outside, we needed to complete the crucial step of making a predator apron. For this, we chose vinyl-coated deer fencing (we had it leftover from another project!). The apron extends about 2 feet out and goes around the entire perimeter, secured with staples to the run. Below, you'll see a shot of how it's attached. After adding bottom plates under the coop (pressurized 2x4s) and a quick coat of primer, we brought the structure outside to its final location. Moving it wasn't as bad as we expected thanks to the help of both our amazing Dads!
Once in place, we then started on the roof. First, we needed to build a support system for it. This was one of the trickier parts of the build, as it required a lot of miter cuts and notching. Fun fact: those little notches on the ends are called "bird mouths." Creating a series of rafters connected with purlins, the roof would be constructed once again with 2x4s. Our credo for this build was "work smarter, not harder!" so, we were mindful of using measurements that would require as little cutting and waste as possible. When it came to building the roof, an online calculator came in handy, as shown below. Using a 7/12 pitch would make the roof steep enough for rain and snow to slide off easily. Perhaps more importantly, each rafter being under 4' long meant that we could get 2 rafters out of each 8' long 2x4. Same for roofing panels, which would be corrugated metal. Since they're sold in 8' lengths, they could be cut in half to go on either side of the roof.
When planning the roof, we wanted to ensure there would be enough overhang to allow rain and snow to slide right off. On the longer sides, the rafters extend approximately 6" past the walls. The roofing panels further extend past this, to approximately 8". For the two shorter sides, we opted for an overhang of approximately 12". Going with a bigger overhang balances nicely with the overall size and proportions of the coop. A barely-there overhang would neither help with keeping the structure as dry as possible, nor look as stately!
Those meticulously-cut rafters would need to be attached to something--on we go to the run! The decision to make the run 16' long was no accident. Once again, we wanted to keep things as simple as possible. Having the run be 16' long meant the bottom and top plates would consist simply of two 2x4s connected on either (long) side, connected with 2x4 studs. The two shorter sides would be the same width as the hen house: 6' long. The 2' long scrap pieces from those sides would be used elsewhere in the build.
Taking a break from the roof, we moved to the walls, windows, and doors of the henhouse. Creating the walls involved cutting plywood sheets into smaller sections, much like making a gingerbread house. Priming and painting everything beforehand was not only easier, but eliminated the risk of messing up the white 2x4 "trim." The walls were attached to the hen house framing from the inside with deck screws.
The biggest reason we were drawn to Carolina Coops is the ability to open the entire back of the hen house for ease of maintenance and for adding critical ventilation. After much measuring and careful cutting, the doors of the hatch were assembled and ready to go. Now on to installing them!
Be mindful of the weather at this point. You might think you've got the measurements dead-on but, as we learned, humidity can really change things. With a bit of tedious hand planing, we got them to fit almost perfectly. Everything is held together with sturdy black hardware. The two back doors that swing open from the center would be lined with 1/2" vinyl-coated hardware cloth (along with every other opening in the hen house and run!). In the inset windows that can be left propped open, we would add plexiglass cut to size, topped with a simple window grid made of 1"x1/2" trim. The grids were a small way to add big style! The lower hatch beneath these door/windows also drops down, to make full clean-outs easier.
Back to that roof... Bringing the coop outside without a roof posed some obvious issues, chief of which was the weather. Having plywood exposed to the elements for days (embarrassingly, it might have been weeks) was not our best move. Inevitably, a bit of mold developed, but we added a makeshift tarp roof and treated the wood with a bleach/water mixture. No harm done. For the roofing material, we chose corrugated metal. In New England (and, increasingly, throughout the country), steep-pitched metal roofs are a time-tested architectural and design choice. They make snow removal a breeze and add a cozy, country charm reminiscent of that long-ago Vermont getaway where our chicken plans were hatched. Each side needed to be 4' long. Perfect for us because roofing panels are sold in 8' lengths. We simply cut them in two halves; one for each side. To prevent water from leaking in through the peak of the roof, we made a ridge cap of leftover roofing. The paneling is secured with metal roof screws in the same color. Tip: Take the barcode stickers off before you install the panels! Having to climb a ladder to deal with that was a pain.
The same material would be used for the nesting box and cupola. The cupola was perhaps the most difficult and complex part of the build, believe it or not. All those tight corners and little pieces were difficult to contend with. To ensure no wild birds or other critters would make their way in, we lined it with hardware cloth. To do this, we formed a piece the length and width we needed into a cylinder shape (much like a lampshade) and tucked it in, securing the "seam" with staples. To make this a functional cupola, we cut into the roof and attached it to the rafters inside the hen house. Weatherproof caulking was used where the cupola meets the roof as "flashing." Pre-cutting the roof panels before installing would have made things easier.
Installing the roof panels and cupola was the scariest part of the process--one that I don't have any pictures of. I was too busy biting my nails as I watched in horror my poor husband straddling and sliding around the roof, sputtering expletives as his power drill slid off for the umpteenth time. A platform of some kind, as opposed to a regular ladder, would have been nice to have. Oh, and honey, if you're reading this: please find that toolbelt you got for Christmas!
We topped the cupola off with a rooster weathervane from Etsy. It proved difficult finding one small enough for a chicken coop; most are meant for human dwellings. My only small regret here was not choosing a brighter color, such as copper. The black tends to get lost in the foliage, but it is a charming addition nonetheless.
The only thing left was painting the rest of the run and hen house. Ah, the fun part! Not quite. Caulking, priming, and painting all that wood in the run was exhausting, but worth the effort. We chose our colors with our property and landscape in mind and our interior spaces as well. Since the coop is visible from our sitting room, we wanted colors that would blend harmoniously with that space. Using Sherwin Williams' exterior paint, we chose a palette of soft taupe, crisp white, and hunter green that matches the existing features of our property. The look was just what we wanted--classic, elegant, and very New England. Tip: Paint the underside of the coop before it's installed, so you're not laying on the dirt slapping paint and swatting flies away like I was!
With our great progress pushing us closer to the finish line, we added the all-important windows to the coop. Like the back hatch, these windows consist of hardware-cloth lined windows with smaller inset plexiglass windows. Just when we thought we had enough ventilation in the hen house, we added just a bit more with oval windows beneath the peak of the roof on either side. Here you can see some of the finishing touches underway, including the all-important hardware cloth.
The inside of the coop and nesting boxes was painted white to keep things bright and airy and the floor and lower 12" or so of the walls were given several coats of Black Jack Rubr-Coat #57 to prevent moisture from damaging the wood. Painting this thing was a b****. There's really no other way to put it. I spent hours sitting in there, caulking every seam, every pocket screw, every knot in the wood. Anywhere I thought a mite could fit. After that dried, I realized I had to re-caulk some more. Then, and only then, did I prime and paint.
We kept the birds' comfort in mind when designing our roost. Unlike Carolina Coops who feature one roosting bar across the coop, raised above the pop door, we made a bleacher-style roost that sits snugly on the side opposite the nesting boxes. This choice was made for a few reasons:
1.) I thought it'd be easier to take out and hose down as needed (it is).
2.) If we had either very young or very large birds or--God forbid one who's ill or injured--they might prefer not having to fly up so far.
3.) It could theoretically accommodate more birds than just one bar (they only use the top roost, but I'm still glad we have the lower one).
The roost simply rests in place and can be removed periodically, which is very helpful for cleaning, touching up paint, re-caulking, etc. The perch along the nesting boxes is permanently affixed, but doesn't need to be cleaned as often, since it doesn't see nearly as much "action" as the roost.
To get in and out of the coop, the birds needed a pop door and a staircase. We weren't messing around with when it came to doors and went straight to automatic ones, purchasing one by KEBBONIXS off Amazon. It was easy to install and is just about perfect! We chose to make them a grand staircase leading to the run fit for a princess, once again generously caulked, primed, and painted. Though their first few days were a wing-flapping comedy of errors, the girls did get used to using their new stairs. Like the roost, it's removable for cleaning.
We couldn't resist adding shutters to the windows using scrap plywood to emulate those on our house and further set it apart from Carolina Coops'. They looked great on their own initially, if not a bit austere. Egg-shaped cut-outs made with a jigsaw were the perfect folksy touch to emphasize that although quite elegant, this was still a chicken coop after all. The door to the run is a fairly simple design: a rectangular frame of 2x4s that fits within the studs, lined with hardware cloth, affixed with hinges. To maximize visibility, we opted not to add a middle rail. The door features a latch secured with a carabiner. We purposely made the door swing out as opposed to swinging in towards the coop, so as not to take up valuable floor space in the run. We later positioned their water just to the left of the door, so that it can be refilled easily without having to actually enter the run.
At this stage, things were really coming together!
Within the run, we took advantage of vertical space and added several perches (and a swing they never use) made from fallen limbs on our property. The ends are cut to be flush with the studs and are attached with several deck screws. These proved to be very useful in the early days when the pecking order was being established. Lower-ranking girls found them a welcome escape from pecking. Plus, they look cool! For a dust bath, we used an old galvanized bucket filled with peat moss, sand, and wood ash. Our feeder and waterer setup proved to be more challenging and decidedly less glamorous than the coop itself. For us, looks can take a back seat to practicality when it comes to food and water. We initially thought to use a PVC pipe feeding and watering system to save floor space. Our research showed us that it might not be the best option, particularly for cleaning. Though I'm sure others have had success with it, we opted instead to keep it simple and use 5-gallon buckets set on pavers to keep them level and off the dirt. It's easy enough to bring the feed bucket down to our garage for a refill.
At long last, in September 2021, we brought our six pullets home! Within hours, they took to their new environment like it had always been their home. Seeing months of hard work be utilized and appreciated by these beautiful creatures was surreal. To think that we'd officially become chicken keepers, years after first pondering the idea... The awesomeness of it still hasn't worn off, all these months later.
The birds seemed quite pleased with their new digs, but it wasn't long before we realized we needed to make a few changes. Our initial feeder design (as shown above) featured PVC elbows, but didn't work as well as we'd hoped and I grew concerned about the girls getting enough to eat. They seemed to have a tough time reaching their necks in far enough and I found myself going out every few hours to scoop it closer to the openings. Thanks to @aart , we made a much better feeder using an inverted water cooler jug set within the bucket that features two cut-outs facing inwards to avoid getting rained on, as you'll see below. The whole thing is propped up on pavers to keep it level and at a comfortable height for the chickens, though they still dig out from under it. The new feeder has been a fantastic solution for us! Borrowing from Lisa Steele of Fresh Eggs Daily, we made an oyster shell dispenser with a plastic bottle and a small plastic cup (the kind that attach to peg boards).
As for water, well... within the first week, those red watering cups shown in an earlier photo broke right off! Needing something sturdier and easier to clean, we opted for a heated dog bowl. I know, I know... It's small. It's not fancy. It's prone to getting mucked up. But I love it! It never freezes even in the dead of winter and our small flock adores gathering around the "water cooler" together. And--something I didn't appreciate until after the fact--it being small and open forces me to clean and refill it more and helps me gauge their water intake more easily. The birds benefit from fresh, clean water every couple of days and I benefit from getting off the couch to give it to them.
Part of what makes this journey so fun is that we're constantly refining and reimagining things as we go. It wasn't until we got our chickens and could really take the time to observe their behavior that we knew how to optimize their quality of living. We've also found a few small ways to make life easier for ourselves too. Here's a look at some other handy features we added down the road.
Soon after acquiring our chickens, we started accumulating all sorts of odds and ends for them. Needing a convenient place to store them, we decided to build a storage cabinet onto the coop. Copying the existing nesting box would be not only easy, as we'd already done it, but give great visual balance to the overall structure. Unlike the nesting boxes, with a drop-down door on the front, the storage cabinet is opened from its lid or "roof," making it easier to move larger items around. Using the same metal roofing paneling, we first created a lid made of plywood, to give the metal something to attach to. Using metal paneling on its own would have been flimsy. To prevent water from leaking in, we used a garage door bottom seal screwed into the side of the hen house. Where the lid meets the walls of the cabinet, we used "D" weather stripping to further weather-proof the cabinet. The only small--albeit important--piece left is a handle to add to the lid.
Our cabinet has proven to be much more spacious than we'd expected and we're able to store quite a lot in it! Feed and straw--since they come in such large volumes--are still kept in our garage. Though the cabinet is designed to withstand the elements, to further water/bug-proof our supplies, we used airtight food storage containers. I have to laugh at myself when I look back on the very beginning of this journey, when I swore I'd never want a walk-in coop ("ew, how could someone want to walk into a coop?"). If you're anything like I was, stop and consider how quickly your coop--and storage area(s)!--will fill up, even with a small flock of 6 like mine. If we had planned for 12 or more chickens, we'd have given serious thought to making the coop walk-in, with a small "closet" inside for storage. That said, for a smaller coop and flock set-up like ours, this cabinet has been a great storage solution.
By now, you may have wondered how much this all cost. The pandemic didn't help, particularly with lumber prices, but the cost was worth every penny. I should have known my husband, who works in finance, would have been keeping diligent accounting journals (this doesn't include the cost of the chickens, feeders, waterers, bedding, and other odds and ends). Though it's no replacement for formal plans, our supply and price list may be helpful when considering what you'll need (hint: a lot!). I'm happy to send the original Excel file to anyone who wants it. Below is just a snippet showing the total with tax. Perhaps most impressive is that our entire coop cost just $700 more than Carolina Coops' hip roof cupola alone! Seeing everything listed out makes me all the more in awe of how he managed to build this, largely by himself, while working 40+ hours a week and being a sleep-deprived Dad of three.
Though we're enormously proud of what we've accomplished, there are a few things we could have done differently:
1.) Make the coop about 25% bigger. It ended up looking a lot smaller outside than when we were working on it in the garage.
2.) Come up with a better feeder/water system from the beginning. Going along with the first point, I would love for the whole thing to be 8' wide instead of 6'. Floor space is so valuable!
3.) Prime and paint everything before installing (particularly the inside of the hen house and run).
4.) Add some sort of French drain around the predator apron to deter run-off from getting into the run. It can be quite muddy in there because of run-off and freeze-thaw cycles. We've since added some landscape edging and mulch to hopefully help with this and because it was looking a bit bare before.
5.) Reconsider the choice of white paint everywhere. I love the look of bright white paint, but the stair treads and other high-traffic areas get muddied up quickly. Rain kicks up dirt as well, mucking up the bottom of the coop. Not a deal-breaker, but something to consider when planning your own color scheme. If we had to do it again, we might opt for a hunter green trim and perhaps a galvanized roof.
I knew from the outset that I would only want to keep chickens if two criteria were met: 1.) The coop had to be easy-to-maintain and 2.) It had to be beautiful. I'm proud to say our coop exceeds both of these criteria and is a joy to have on our property. Most of all, it's given our family a renewed sense of joy and hope as we've watched our birds--and ourselves--grow and thrive. Feeding our family home-grown eggs is just one of many gifts... Seeing our children interact with their chickens warms my heart. Knowing that we've literally built them these incredible childhood memories--ones that we never had the fortune to have--is one of our proudest accomplishments as parents.
As a nod to our subdivision, with its streets named after Cape Cod towns, we call it Coop Cod Estate. Nearly 40 years ago, a generation of families before us broke ground on building this neighborhood and we like to think this coop will further the sense of community we're fortunate to have here. The joy of chicken-keeping is contagious. We've since inspired previously on-the-fence friends to take the same plunge we did. On numerous occasions, fellow parents have chimed in after parties at our home to say "Great. Now _____ wants their own chickens. Thanks a lot, guys!"
Family, friends, neighbors, and coworkers have been the delighted recipients of our birds' eggs. They're always amazed at the various colors and sizes and one lucky friend even got a triple-yolker! These chickens are therapy; they heal us and teach us. They force us outside--rain, shine, cold, warm--and to be present. There are no smartphones, no screens, no clocks. When I pull on my muck boots and enter that run, I leave the world as I know it. Gazing into their sweet eyes, I see gratitude and peace and... if I'm being honest, dinosaurs.To my husband who has made my most cherished dreams a reality--this article and contest entry is for you. We wouldn't be the daydreaming, pie-in-the-sky, suburban homesteaders that we are today without you.
