How to build a palace fit for chickens

Following our recent decision to increase our chicken flock by 100% i.e from two to four, we spent last night making plans for building a new improved chicken palace to accommodate Mrs Bennett, Mrs Miggins and our soon to be newcomers, (4th October - v. exciting!) Mrs Slocombe and Mrs Polovevich aka Mrs Poo. Large sheets of paper were spread on sitting room floor and, each brandishing a freshly sharpened pencil, we began to design our unique hen house whilst trying to ignore the appalling political voting that was happening at the the Eurovision Dance Contest on TV. (You know, Russia voting for Ukraine, Ukraine voting for Russia, Sweden voting for Denmark, Denmark voting for Sweden, no-one voting for United Kingdom because we were lap dogs to the USA and helped them invade Iraq to look for something that didn't exist except in the weeny pixie brain of President 'My eyes are so close together I can see up both my nostrils' Bush.)

Back to hen palace. We made a list -'Required items in a Hen House.' 1) Sleeping quarters 2) eating station 3) water fountain 4) garden swing 5) roosting areas 6) digging area 7) dust bath 8) lawn area 9) jacuzzi and sauna 10) pool table 11) chaise longue 12) piano forte 13) candelabra 14) hostess trolley....hostess trolley?? It was at this point we realised Misses Bennett and Miggins had infiltrated the camp and were adding their own ideas via the medium of subliminal thought. We sent them into the kitchen to make scones and struck the last six items from the list pausing only to tut in disgust as even Finland only gave us 'un point'. No more holidays there, then.

The plan is to remove the shed from its site at the back of the garden. Our garden is oddly shaped (like a rugby player's balls) and the edges converge to a point at the back. This means there is currently a triangular shape behind the shed of about five feet in depth that is currently unused and could therefore be incorporated into a chicken palace. This morning, Andy sets to (I am in my office rehashing a poem about cremations for a competition and writing a short story about drug addiction for another - it's all laughs being a writer you know) and starts clearing the shed. Out come the garden furniture cushions (barely used this year because of washout summer) , the barbecue (ditto), a bicycle, a unicycle (don't ask), a car tyre for a car we no longer have, the lawnmower (now redundant due to lawn care management system implemented since arrival of Bennett and Miggins and their scratchy chicken feet) and various assorted items which fall loosely under the heading of 'What shall we do with this? Oh, bung it in the shed, it may come in handy some time.'

And that's it for the day. Given that our combined DIY skills are zero, we need to approach this project in tiny doses in order for it to succeed i.e remain standing through a bit of a breeze. But the vision is there, in our minds, of a glorious edifice, architecturally divine and containing all the domestic comforts required by our ladies that lay. Except, maybe , for the hostess trolley. I like the idea of a chandelier, though. Don't you, Andy? Andy??