Poor Mr. House Wren remains mateless, almost three weeks since his nest building efforts, which have included both birdhouses. Each has the trademark stick poking out the nest hole, but has yet to lure in his female. He divides his time, singing from the roof of each house or in the treeline behind the South fence. If he would have looked around Rauhallinen Farm before his testosterone fueled building frenzy, he would have noticed we are all bachelors here and perhaps sought his mate elsewhere. We are glad he chose us, as his song and antics are charming.