...marry a farmer! I used to live in the Chicago suburbs, from there originally. Married my farmer back in December 2010. Got my Chicago house ready to sell--took a few months--it sold by last fall and I have been here on our Kansas farm ever since. Happy as a chicken with a bug to eat!
Of course, I didn't marry my farmer just so I could have chickens...but thought you all would like a laugh on a Sunday!
Shortly before we got engaged, I got it in my mind that I wanted chickens, in the Chicago suburb where I lived. Trying to be a good neighbor, I went around and told everyone what it was like to have chickens, and were they OK with me having 3 hens? Everyone initially said yes. Then a couple weeks later I got a nasty letter from my next door neighbor saying no matter how long I'd lived there, it was necessary to apply for a variance to have chickens and I'd better comply. And he had copied all neighbors within 150 feet, "per the variance request." I lived in an unincorporated area, and I would have had to go downtown to attend court to get the dumb variance, which all neighbors had to agree to (and you know he would have disagreed). I'd just gotten engaged, and had just started a new job with a 1.5 hour commute on either end...so I did not have the time or inclination to be bothered with this thorn-in-my-side neighbor.
So I got my chickens. My husband-to-be devised an indoor coop out of 3 stock tanks with ladders and platforms, and a dome of wire hardware mesh over the whole contraption. Then he built a chicken tractor so I could sneak them out on the side of the house without the troublesome neighbor. Every time I changed out their bedding, I was sure to dump it in a line right on their property line. Along that fenceline, I also planted hottunya (a beautiful and horribly stinky groundcover that spreads like wildfire via underground rhizomes--it's nearly impossible to get rid of), and lily of the valley, which also spreads fast.
I also came up with a plan to get a permit for the chicken coop: get a permit for a garden shed, and later convert it to a chicken coop when I got the variance for the chickens. So one day I found myself with the free services of a licensed carpenter and my husband. Carpenter offered to build the shed panels for free. I took him up on the offer. One day the two of them pounded, sawed, and built all day, making lots of racket. At the end of the day my honey and I stained the panels. The next day we hauled them to the other side of the house and put them under a tarp, awaiting the "garden shed" permit.
We came home after a long day of doing errands, to find an orange notice stickered to my door: BUILDING WITHOUT A PERMIT. And here was a number to call. I called the number. It took the inspector a week to come out. When he came, I closed the curtains to the room where my new chicks were living. He walked all around the backyard, getting more and more angry by the minute. I told him what my plan had been, and he said, "Well, I don't see any chickens or any shed. You are clear." I said to him--see, my neighbor wasted your time and that's why you're mad. He said, "You got THAT right." I told him if my neighbors would just TALK to me, then they'd know what my plan was and that I never intended to have chickens outside illegally. He left.
Things happened quickly with my honey after that. We got engaged, and he moved the chickens out to the farm so the house could be shown sans chickens. We were married later that year. On moving day, I smugly informed the nasty neighbors that they'd been living next door to chickens for 8 months. They didn't like that! Oh sweet bliss! It was a priceless moment!
Hope you liked my story. My chicken addiction is full-blown now and we have a bunch of feathered wonders!
Of course, I didn't marry my farmer just so I could have chickens...but thought you all would like a laugh on a Sunday!
Shortly before we got engaged, I got it in my mind that I wanted chickens, in the Chicago suburb where I lived. Trying to be a good neighbor, I went around and told everyone what it was like to have chickens, and were they OK with me having 3 hens? Everyone initially said yes. Then a couple weeks later I got a nasty letter from my next door neighbor saying no matter how long I'd lived there, it was necessary to apply for a variance to have chickens and I'd better comply. And he had copied all neighbors within 150 feet, "per the variance request." I lived in an unincorporated area, and I would have had to go downtown to attend court to get the dumb variance, which all neighbors had to agree to (and you know he would have disagreed). I'd just gotten engaged, and had just started a new job with a 1.5 hour commute on either end...so I did not have the time or inclination to be bothered with this thorn-in-my-side neighbor.
So I got my chickens. My husband-to-be devised an indoor coop out of 3 stock tanks with ladders and platforms, and a dome of wire hardware mesh over the whole contraption. Then he built a chicken tractor so I could sneak them out on the side of the house without the troublesome neighbor. Every time I changed out their bedding, I was sure to dump it in a line right on their property line. Along that fenceline, I also planted hottunya (a beautiful and horribly stinky groundcover that spreads like wildfire via underground rhizomes--it's nearly impossible to get rid of), and lily of the valley, which also spreads fast.
I also came up with a plan to get a permit for the chicken coop: get a permit for a garden shed, and later convert it to a chicken coop when I got the variance for the chickens. So one day I found myself with the free services of a licensed carpenter and my husband. Carpenter offered to build the shed panels for free. I took him up on the offer. One day the two of them pounded, sawed, and built all day, making lots of racket. At the end of the day my honey and I stained the panels. The next day we hauled them to the other side of the house and put them under a tarp, awaiting the "garden shed" permit.
We came home after a long day of doing errands, to find an orange notice stickered to my door: BUILDING WITHOUT A PERMIT. And here was a number to call. I called the number. It took the inspector a week to come out. When he came, I closed the curtains to the room where my new chicks were living. He walked all around the backyard, getting more and more angry by the minute. I told him what my plan had been, and he said, "Well, I don't see any chickens or any shed. You are clear." I said to him--see, my neighbor wasted your time and that's why you're mad. He said, "You got THAT right." I told him if my neighbors would just TALK to me, then they'd know what my plan was and that I never intended to have chickens outside illegally. He left.
Things happened quickly with my honey after that. We got engaged, and he moved the chickens out to the farm so the house could be shown sans chickens. We were married later that year. On moving day, I smugly informed the nasty neighbors that they'd been living next door to chickens for 8 months. They didn't like that! Oh sweet bliss! It was a priceless moment!
Hope you liked my story. My chicken addiction is full-blown now and we have a bunch of feathered wonders!
