There’s no chicken house here. When we moved here, I had the crazy idea that the chickens would naturally gravitate to the barn. I figured it might be a problem–lots of chicken poop in the stalls, and Morgan wouldn’t like that! But I thought maybe it would do, for the winter, then I might break down and build a chicken house. I’ve not been a huge fan of chicken houses. I like my chickens to free range–and they like to free range, too.
I’m breaking down quickly about a chicken house here. The chickens didn’t gravitate to the barn. OH, NO, not to the barn. They gravitated to the HOUSE. I’ve been running them off the back porch constantly. Worse, maybe, is that they love the studio deck. They roost on the deck. Leaving piles of poop for me to sweep off every day. I battle them in the evenings, swatting them off the deck rails with a broom. Too often, they beat me, outlast me, out-man me.
If it’s raining or cold, some of them do go to the barn, but mostly they go under the deck. I bet the chicken poop is piling up under there, too.
I’m becoming a fan of a chicken house. With a lock and key!