Here are some other things I have learned in the last twenty-four hours:
Always look around the basement or the shed before going to town to buy something. Almost without exception, everything I need, like oscillating sprinkler heads, is already here. It seems I just need to Look. And Listen.
Those blue gardening shoes, a generic version of Crocs, which I found on the porch when I moved in and swore I wouldn't be caught dead in? They are my new best friends.
Always know where your garden hose is before starting to mow. No, I didn't, but I came mighty close.
The delphiniums are in bloom and the exact same color as my garden shoes.
Lost bungee cord for mower's grass-catching bins (If there's a fancy name for them, I don't know it yet) must be replaced. They tend to want to jump off and lay in the grass, about fifty feet from wherever I happen to be. Bungee cords in basement? Oh yeah, they're there.
Squirrels like cracked corn and sunflower seeds. Very much. Must buy new bird feeder, new bird seed, squirrel-proof. They're acting like they own the place. The mama wrens are not happy. A friend has suggested some possibilities, but admits there are few truly squirrel proof bird feeders. Apparently, there's a motorized version that's supposed to spin when squirrels jump on, thereby thwarting their eating efforts. He says, "I've seen footage of squirrels riding them like they're on a carnival ride."
Cancel any plans for joining a gym. Not that I was seriously considering this. I have a new plan. Doesn't cost a thing. It's called Teresa's Tan and Tone. BTW: a farmer's tan happens fast.
Oscillating sprinklers wait for no man. Or woman. Running through the sprinkler is still fun.
Always wash off my feet at the outdoor spigot before going in the house.
It's good to have a mud room, with a washer and dryer next to it.
I love the smell of freshly mowed hay and, what I call, buffalo bales. Despite their newness, they look solid and true. Like they've roamed there a long time. Actually, I've known I love freshly mowed hay for a long time. It was nice to have my neighbor's reminder, though. And, I'm sure glad I don't have to do that ever again. Baling and stacking hay bales (the old-fashioned square ones). It's hard work, ingrained in my ten-year old mind, never to leave.
I'm going to call it a night. Listen to some music. Maybe the title song, by Roger Miller. Here it is, from the very first season of The Muppet Show, with the Whatnots, of the Gogolala Jubilee Jugband: