I had thought there were four eggs in the newest nursery. Mama bird flew off to get some breakfast, and I tiptoed over to the pot to have a look at how they're doing.
No babies yet, but eggs. And guess what? There are five.
Hopefully no tabloid journalist shows up wanting to know why Quintmom decided to give birth to five chicks instead of a more modest number, and I don't have to give a statement to Bird Welfare about why I let her have her babies in my dead plant (I swear, officer, we put out perfectly good birdhouses . . . )