The Permission to Fail

One of the first projects I decided to tackle after we moved into our new house was getting my quail outside. Now, if I’m being honest, this decision was not entirely motivated by a desire to improve their quality of life. The indoor quail were loud…and they were stinky, and after months of sharing a house with them, I was more than ready for them to enjoy some fresh air. 

So, I did what most aspiring homesteaders do: I watched videos, looked at pictures online, gathered materials, and convinced myself I knew what I was doing. Then I spent the next week or two building. 

The first coop wasn’t bad. It was raised off the ground, had hardware cloth flooring, trays underneath to catch waste, and seemed perfectly practical. When I finally moved the quail in, I expected to feel accomplished. 

Instead, I felt uncertain. The quail weren’t thriving the way I had hoped. To be fair, moving from an indoor environment to an outdoor one is stressful, so I gave them time to adjust. Some of that stress improved, but something still felt off. They seemed more nervous, more restless. 

I kept finding myself watching them and thinking, “This works…but I don’t think it’s what they need.” and that realization sent me back to the drawing board. 

As I researched more, I discovered quail aviaries. Instead of living on wire flooring, the birds lived on the ground with sand, hiding places, room to explore, and opportunities to behave more naturally. I loved the idea. 

I did not love the idea of buying all new materials after I had just built something else, though, so I started looking around the property. There were two large tree branches left behind by the previous owner. There were scraps of lumber. There were two unused shelving units my husband wasn’t using, and there was a stubborn little voice in my head saying, “Let’s see if we can make this work.”

Those branches became the frame, the shelving units became support pillars and a roof. Chicken wire (yeah I had to buy that) wrapped around everything, and an absolutely unreasonable number of zip ties held the whole thing together. Was it elegant? Not particularly. Did it work? Amazingly, yes. 

Of course, no homestead project would be complete without a little chaos. During construction, one of my hens escaped. I chased her. She flew directly into a thorny patch of brambles that made rescue nearly impossible. After searching and searching, I finally accepted that she was probably gone. 

Then, hours later, I heard my elderly neighbor yelling at her dog. “DROP IT!!!” 

To this day, I don’t know who was more surprised when my neighbor walked over holding my missing quail. The quail was ruffled, offended and missing a few feathers, but somehow, completely unharmed. Because there were no visible injuries I guessed that the best place for her would be back in her coop so I put her in there, wished her luck, but honestly, I expected to find her dead the next morning. 

Instead, she carried on as if being kidnapped by a dog was a minor inconvenience! Around the same time, two other quails ended up with injuries from various squabbles and accidents. It only reinforced my growing suspicion that the birds needed a less stressful environment. 

Then came the final push and a rainstorm rolled in. I hauled fifteen bags of sand into the aviary. Food went in, water went in, shelters went in, and finally, all twenty-four quails moved into their new home. As I sat outside their new home, a rain jacket on while my legs still got soaked, I watched and hoped that there was some inclination that this was a good choice, that all this work over the last month had been worth it. 

The moment that made every splinter, every zip tie, and every redesign worth it happened almost immediately. Dust baths…everywhere. Quail throwing sand over their backs. Quail stretching out in the dirt. Quail running from hiding spot to hiding spot. For the first time since moving them outside, they looked content. Not surviving, not adjusting, just content. 

It’s hard to explain the difference unless you’ve spent hours watching birds, but the difference was obvious. Even within the first week, egg production increased dramatically. The fighting decreased. The birds are relaxed, and everytime I walk outside now, they simply look happy. 

The funny thing is that this project wasn’t supposed to teach me anything. It was supposed to be a quail coop, but instead, it reminded me of something I’ve been trying very hard to learn lately. Sometimes your first attempt won’t be the right one. That doesn’t mean it was a waste. The first coop taught me what wasn’t working. The aviary taught me what was. Neither could have existed without the other. 

At one point during this project, I told my eldest daughter something I probably needed to hear myself. Nobody told me exactly how to do this. I’m learning as I go. Sometimes I’ll try things that fail. Sometimes I’ll build something and realize it needs to change, but if I give myself permission to keep failing until I succeed, then the project is still worth doing. 

Honestly, I think that’s true of more than just quail coops. It’s true of gardens, homesteads, careers, friendships, parenting…and maybe life itself. Sometimes success isn’t getting it right the first time. Sometimes success is simply being willing to build it again. 

The American Dream Includes Feathers…

For years, I nurtured a quiet hope that I would one day own chickens, though I never truly believed it would happen. When the reality of homesteading first took root in our second home—a place with a decent backyard—the dream of gathering our own eggs felt like a distant fantasy. At the time, our city was debating whether to allow backyard poultry. My husband, Will, attended the town hall meeting, but the council couldn't reach a consensus. The proposal was shelved—not a "no," just a lukewarm "maybe later."

We brainstormed ways to keep a covert coop, but the only logical spot was right in the middle of our dogs' outdoor run. It didn't feel safe, so we tabled the idea and focused on what we could control: our garden and our growing family. Then, last year, we sold that house of dreams. We moved into a rental to pay off bills and reclaim our financial freedom—the new American dream, right? In a rental, chickens were out of the question. I did manage to start raising quail, though. They were small, quiet, and easier to keep indoors during the sweltering summer heat, away from the dogs.

When we finally moved into our permanent home and began mapping out new dreams, the quail came with us, and the garden followed. But the chicken dream remained at a standstill—until May 6th. That day is always difficult; it's my mom's birthday, and I find myself feeling sensitive and missing her deeply. Sensing my somber mood, Will took me to Tractor Supply to pick out a new bird feeder. As fate would have it, it was "Chick Days," and the store was filled with the sound of chirping. I immediately ran over to look at the adorable fluffballs.

That's when Will surprised me. He asked what we would need to bring some home that very day. Since we already had an enclosure and food, all we really needed was an extra feeder. He looked a bit stunned by my readiness but told me to go ahead and get four Barred Rock pullets. I literally skipped to the front of the store to find an associate!

Once we got them home and introduced them to the kids, the difference between chickens and quail became immediately clear. These chicks were naturally more domesticated; they actually wanted to be around us instead of scurrying away in fear. I spent the afternoon cleaning enclosures and ensuring the quail were safely quarantined from the new arrivals. That was only two weeks ago, but they have grown at a staggering rate. They started out the size of adult quails, and now they are already outgrowing their indoor brooder!

I'm preparing a larger indoor space for them now, and in another few weeks, I hope to have their permanent outdoor coop ready. I am so excited for the day I can finally walk outside and find an egg large enough to make a real meal out of.

Of course, the kids took charge of naming them. Inspired by their favorite stories, they chose Glinda, Elphaba, Nessarose, and Madame Morrible. They are already living up to their names!

The Highs and Lows of Hatching Quail (and Why I Can't Stop)

I’ll admit it: I’m addicted to hatching quail. It is such a fun way to explore something so magical and mystical.

I originally got into quail because of my friend Amanda. She was about to move and had just bought a few quail to try out, so she asked if I wanted them. I immediately said yes. Our first group consisted of three females and one male. We built a small chicken/bunny hutch in the backyard, but on the second day, we opened the cage and one bird flew right over the fence into our neighbor's yard. I remember running over with two frantic kids in the early morning to ask if we could look for it. Looking back, I’m surprised she said yes, but we never found that quail.

For a while we just kept those three, but then I got more involved. I found a local quail group online and bought three more. That’s when the magic really started. Just for fun, I gave two eggs to some friends who had an incubator, and lo and behold, they hatched! Soon after, I got my own incubator. The first time we tried it, only one egg hatched; we loved that little guy for the single day he was alive.

After that, I decided we were done hatching quail. Then one day while I was asleep, my eldest child convinced my husband to incubate some more eggs.

A little more than two weeks later, we had a whole army of baby quail! They grow incredibly fast. With so many new birds, I had to get to work on housing. Since it was mid-summer in Phoenix, they stayed inside. I really enjoyed having them there—until they started to stink.

Eventually, one group of baby quail turned out to be all males, which was difficult. I also had one female in the group that laid blue eggs—a celadon—but she unfortunately passed away. I put all the remaining blue eggs into the incubator hoping to have more one day, but only a few made it, and I have yet to see any more blue eggs.

The males were loud and aggressive, so I knew I had to do something. I started watching videos about culling quail and had to hype myself up to treat it professionally. One night while my husband took the girls out for dinner, I culled about 10–12 males. I tried to be as respectful as possible, holding each one and thanking them for their service. It wasn't my favorite moment, but I felt a sense of pride. Being able to cull poultry felt like a true "homestead" milestone!

We took a break from incubating during our winter move, but eventually I started again. I’ve successfully hatched two different batches in the new house so far. My last batch was a group of celadon eggs; eleven out of twelve hatched! Sadly, I only have six left now. Quail are very fickle birds.

Now all my quail, except for the six babies, are outside enjoying the warm weather. You can bet there will be more incubations in the future!

Confessions of a Quail Landlord: Building the "Good Enough" Home

As the warmth of spring began to break through the bite of our first winter in the pines, I knew it was time to move the quail outside. Let’s be honest: birds stink. Keeping a dozen quail in our sunroom was making the whole house smell. I debated for a long time how to house them. One option was ordering a hutch online, but they can cost up to $400 (why isn’t there a larger market for quail hutches?). I also considered having someone build one or even repurposing an old outdoor playhouse—an idea I still want to try—but I finally decided to bite the bullet and buy the materials myself.

So off I went to Home Depot with my niece and two young kids in tow. I sat in the parking lot with a notebook and a crayon and sketched a design. After a very long trip through the store—my kids can attest to that—I left ready to build. My goal was to avoid any return trips, which is always a challenge. There are always hiccups; for me, it was the screw lengths. I luckily found some longer screws left over from a previous project, but in other parts of the build, even my shortest screws were too long.

Also, I hate boxes…they are the worst. 

As time went on, I could see my idea coming to life. It wasn’t perfect by a long shot, but I did it. I made something that would get at least five of my quail out of the house. By the time I finished the bottom trays, attached the door latch, and moved the hutch into place, the sun was setting. I debated waiting until morning to move the birds, but the excitement of a finished project won out. I chose my younger group of adults and introduced them to their new home. I sat for a good hour just watching them, seemingly paralyzed by the fresh air.

That was the first night I ever had animals outside while I slept. It was nerve-wracking, and the next day I was terrified to check if they were still alive. To my relief, they were! About a week later, I built a bigger and better version. Now all my quail live outside. They’ve survived multiple nights without a single death—well, not from being outside, anyway (one was being a bully, so he had to go).

The point is, don’t let the fear of perfection or failure stop you from doing what needs to get done. You can still get those stinky quail out of your house with an ugly hutch!