Here’s what I know so far.

First, my new tenants aren’t much for planning ahead. They moved in on Sunday. By Wednesday, this was happening:

(Mama on the nest)

Three days between setting up housekeeping and actually laying the eggs. This doesn’t seem a little last-minute to anybody else? I mean, they knew she was pregnant, because the females usually lay the eggs five to seven days after breeding. Were they going to try to hold out until I moved the wreath? Were the finches playing chicken with me?

Second, I should have specified how many residents would be permitted, because more are showing up each day. Here’s yesterday:

And here’s this morning:

That’s going to be one crowded nest.

Not to mention the fact that Mr. Finch is apparently falling down on the job, because she’s been squawking at him all morning—the finch version of sending angry tweets. According to my research, he’s supposed to be feeding her regurgitated seed while she sits on the nest. So far, though, I’ve only seen her sitting there alone while he’s flying around and having a good ol’ time. (Suggestion to Mister: don’t mess with a hungry woman. Especially not one who’s laid five of your eggs—so far. Bring her the damned seed already. Preferably with a side of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy.)

This is going to go on for another week or two before the babies hatch. Then it’ll be another two to three weeks before they all move out. In other words, I won’t be using my front door until July.

She’s still making noise, but she sounds a lot less stressed. Mister must have shown up with the food. It’s about time. He’d better step up tomorrow, because otherwise, we’re going to have to revise the terms of the lease to address noise violations.

Just as long as they don’t try to pay the rent in regurgitated seed.