Once home, it was time to unpack. The lumber was easier to remove from the van than I was. I had to duck my head into the passenger side, while slowly moving one leg at time. First the left, then the right, but that required me to curve under the steering wheel.
Despite the tilt wheel, I couldn’t get the steering wheel to move off my thigh the whole time I was driving.
After a contortionist act to get out of the van, it was time to unload the hardware store’s plunder that would eventually become a chicken run masterpiece. I was excited, but I couldn’t tell if I was more excited to get out of the driver’s seat or to begin the ultimate construction project, only time would tell.
I started by framing the walls. Looking at the drawing, I realized that I didn’t write a measurement for the wall height. So, I just figured half a stud would suffice, and I made the wall 4 feet tall. Well, nearly 4 feet tall, the studs were 4 feet but the top and bottom plate made it a hair over.
At this point in the project, I had to eschew the precision of an engineering tape measure and rely on my instincts. This is where I begin eyeballing squareness and estimating smidgens — an impractical and imprecise measurement that vaguely describes a few tiny dashes on a sophisticated tape measure.
Instead of calling some complicated number for a given board, I will say a big hair short of the ¾ inch line. Sometimes, it’s a smidgen too long and we must cut again. And sometimes, we correct with the most improper tools.
After framing the walls, it was time to frame the roof rafters. I’m not sure if they are rafters, I just call them rafters. I struggle for the life of me with everything related to roofing. Not because I don’t own the right tools, or watch the right how-to videos, but because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.
For instance, I cut and built the rafters and supports four separate times. The first time, I was off by half a foot. The next time, I was off by a few inches but just on one side. Then, I managed to make a guide piece and cut everyone the wrong length… except one. And finally, I got them close enough to fit. Albeit some were a smidgen off, but I couldn’t tell if it was short or long, so I just went with it.
About this time, I found myself using a reciprocating saw to carefully sand the rafter supports. Although it wasn’t the right tool for sanding, I felt comfortable in what I was doing. It was my way of creating more headroom for the roof, after all, I was now constructing a greenhouse.
I’m not sure why I decided to build a greenhouse, but my best guess is that I made perfectly square walls on skids that I didn’t want to waste on a structure for the chickens. It’s not an everyday occurrence where I accidentally build something straight and square. So, I did the most logical thing; I began converting the chicken run into a greenhouse.
Fortunately for me, the plans and drawings were so vague and undetailed that they worked as a blueprint.
To be continued…
