About a week ago, the Edward Institute for Village Studies (EIVS), regarded by many as the #1 unaccredited institute for higher village learning in Novgorod Oblast, acquired 10 chicks to help replenish our chicken population, which sadly had been thinned out by the neighborhood fox in recent months.
But where to house them? Our hens had squeezed in with the goats for the winter and were in dire need of a summer residence. Preferably one without foxes.
Irina the farm headmistress sent your correspondent some design ideas.
I immediately understood that I had once again vastly overstepped my capabilities as a blogger. But it was too late. “Thumbs-up.”
The next morning I put on my rubber boots and got to work. My first task would be to harvest boards, beams, and other materials from a collapsed shed that serves as the Edward Institute’s lumber quarry. Because why pay for something you can get for free with a crowbar?
The only downside to this method of lumber appropriation is that there is always a 90% chance of stepping on a nail.
This friendly rusty nail inserted itself into the side of my rubber boot and came within 1 millimeter of completely murdering my foot:
The next step was to collect furniture from abandoned buildings. A chicken coop is basically just a cabinet where you store chickens, so why not use actual dressers, cabinets, and wardrobes when constructing one? To me this is a total no-brainer.
Once you have gathered your materials, you need to build a foundation.
Then arrange your furniture in a pleasing manner and make the necessary modifications.

Don’t forget to add a window. I added mine before my chicken coop even had a frame. Some might say that’s way too soon to add a window. But that’s just their opinion.
Now that I had a window it was time to add other things—like a roof.
Then I slapped a door on this bad boy and called it…
… Chickenhof.
You are probably bursting with questions, so I have created a Chickenhof FAQ for your convenience.
How much did it cost to build Chickenhof?
Nearly all materials were scavenged from the lumber quarry or abandoned buildings. I bought nails, screws, hinges, and a few hook-and-eye door latches, which together totaled around $15. But I do need new rubber boots on account of all the rusty nails that nearly disemboweled me, so let’s call it $30.
How long did it take to build Chickenhof?
Approximately 60 hours. But keep in mind I am a blogger with a handsaw who has no idea what he is doing.
I want to rent Chickenhof for my wedding/BRICS conference/birthday party. Can I do that?
Absolutely. Chickenhof can accommodate at least 1 Hobbit-sized person. Please email me for availability and rates.
FOR A LIMITED TIME: Cherished paying Slavsquat subscribers will receive TWO FREE NIGHTS at Chickenhof and ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT raw eggs. (If you are normal-sized and can’t fit inside Chickenhof, we will provide you with a standard room in an actual house without chickens.) Enjoy the ultimate total immersion Novgorod village experience!
Have a pleasant Wednesday.
— Riley
Thank you for reading Edward Slavsquat!
You are killing me, Slavsquat. For a guy who was raised in sunny California and lived a decently easy life, you have won my eternal admiration for your ability to adapt to that rural environment. Your construction skills vastly exceed any ability I have! Thanks for the Institute updates and all the laughs. Can't wait for the nest episode. But, we are all waiting to see photos of the boss, Ekaterina. OH, and bringing up the little guy there is amazing.
The Chickenhof compares very favorably with the Peterhof Palace shown briefly in the video. I was there in 1971 and my first thought was, "This would be a great place for chickens."