Windows Into My World

The window project is finished!

Adam and I stopped working on replacing the windows last fall when the snow fell, right around Thanksgiving. We had actually made some good progress by that point - fourteen double-hung windows plus one small casement in the basement (which sounds like a euphemism for something BUT IT IS NOT. I do not even want to know what it might be a euphemism for, as there are no answers to that question that make me feel any better than not knowing). All we had left to do was the picture window in the living room. But the snow didn't go away after that, not for some time, and the idea of working outside while there was a large gaping hole in my nice heated house seemed suboptimal, particularly as the temperatures approached the point where Fahrenheit and Centigrade merge and the thermometer stops showing numbers and just has elegant pictograms of morose looking brass monkeys.

And then it was spring and neither of us had any time to worry about replacing a window that was, in point of fact, doing a pretty good job of what it was designed to do, namely letting in light while keeping the outside air outside and the inside air inside.

Summer similarly slid by.

But all good things must come to an end, even procrastination, so this morning at 8:30 sharp Adam came over with his tools and we got to work. And you have no idea how good it was that he was there, since even with his professional, union-certified help it still took the two of us nearly seven hours to put this thing in.

For one thing, there was much reconstruction work to do on the sills and frames, which had rotted away underneath their nice aluminum blankets, a festering sore hidden beneath a glittering surface like some bad movie's twist ending. Boy, who saw that coming? Not me.

For another thing, the window company continued its tradition of providing windows the exact same size as the opening, which meant that there was almost no way to wedge the thing in there.

Almost.

But when one member of the team has a truck fully stocked with implements of destruction and the other member is the property owner and thus in a position to authorize the use of said implements, well, there isn't really anything that is completely impossible.

Inadvisable, perhaps. But impossible? Not really.

The window is now resting comfortably, unbroken, in its opening. It is caulked, sealed, stopped and sheathed, and there is no further work to be done not now not ever. Ever.

And the only casualty is a perfect square of burnt grass where we laid the old window in the sun before moving it into the truck for disposal. I'm thinking of putting up a sign and charging admission to see it. Either that or spreading rumors that the aliens have given up crop circles for lawn squares.

I figure I'll make money either way.