I Air Conditioned My Chicken Coop

Last week Greg and I put an air conditioner in a chicken coop. 

Yes, you read that right. An air conditioner. In a chicken coop. 

Here's how it happened. We bought a new shed to turn into a coop. It's airtight, which sounds like a good thing until you learn that airtight means no ventilation. 

The babies seemed to love their new home as they had outgrown their pen in our kitchen. But when it hit 90 degrees outside, it was 110 inside with zero air movement. Baby chicks can't survive that. They were panting and looking very droopy. 

I tried a fan first. Not enough. 

So we installed an air conditioner. And even that brought its own challenges. The shed window couldn't support the weight, so we ended up rigging ladders to hold the unit in place. A simple fix that turned out not to be simple. 

And here's the part I didn't expect: even the air conditioner couldn't beat that heat. So the chicks are back in our house right now on our screened porch living their best life while we build the ventilation and outdoor run they actually need. 

I can hear it now. "Belinda. All that for a chicken coop." 

I know. But the chicks are safe. That was the outcome I wanted, and I never stopped adjusting until I had it. Fan, air conditioner, ladders, whatever it takes, while we build it right. The solution kept changing. The goal never did. 

I hear another version of this from women every single week. They lie awake at night, sick over their jobs or a job search that's going nowhere. 

Around 2 a.m. they make themselves a promise. Tomorrow will be different. 

Then morning comes. And resignation wins. Same commute, same inbox, same promise, broken by nine o'clock. Then they make the same promise again the next night. 

I know that loop because I lived in it. A business that wasn't working. A pile of unfiled taxes I couldn't look at. A life on repeat. I knew it every single night, and every single morning I got up and lived it all again. 

A life on repeat is not a life. It's Groundhog Day, except nobody's laughing. 

Here's the difference between that loop and my week with the chicks: the loop repeats the same thing and hopes. I kept the outcome and changed the method, as many times as it took. 

Decide what you want. Then keep adjusting until you have it. Even when it looks a little crazy from the outside. 

The chicks, by the way, are peeping away in our house as I write this. Safe. Greg built their outdoor run after work this week, and I spent the weekend painting it. They'll be outside by next weekend. 

Still adjusting. Still getting there. 

That's the whole point.