All the houses on this side of Gothic Avenue were refurbished 43 years ago after a developer's thwarted take-over scheme. As part of the final compromise, the houses were paired with the developer's previously built condominium, so they were redone as cheaply and quickly as possible, as is usually the case, and then sold to individual families—of whom we were one.
My point here is that by now, forty-odd years later, all the houses have been successively upgraded by new owners over the years. We are the only original purchasers left, and our house is the only one that still has the cheap aluminum windows that were part of the original renovations.
The windows of our house take two forms: one form is the sash-style that can be opened and can be completely removed (though with great difficulty) from the inside for cleaning. The other windows are stationary, with an indoor pane and an outdoor storm-window pane. To clean those, you unscrew the storm window from the outside while standing on a tall ladder, lower the window to the ground, clean both sides of it, climb the ladder to clean the outer side of the inner pane, then carry the storm window back up and screw it again into the metal frame. Are you following all this?
I hope I don't have to tell you that I never tried to clean the stationary windows, but for years I would dismantle and wash the sash windows, with greater and greater difficulty as the innards of the window mechanics deteriorated. It was always a massive task, but I was young and healthy and would tackle the job twice a year—just me, a spray bottle of vinegared water, and a pile of newspaper.
Over time, however, I lost the knack of removing those windows—or lost the strength to do it. I realized that I could no longer dismantle the sash windows. So, as if I'd been reprieved, I did nothing.
Well, if you ever happened to visit us between 5:30 and 6 in the evening, when the bit of western sun flashes through the front windows, you would have understood the shame of poor housekeeping.
We bit the financial bullet and hired out the job: to wash every window in the house. Big and small, sash and stationary. It took several days but was worth every penny.
The windows shine. Our vacation this year (not that we ever take vacations anyway) is to be able to gaze at the neighbourhood through newly cleansed glass. It's a brighter world out there. We figure we'll never have to do it again, given our ages. Whoever owns the house after us will immediately install modern, efficient, and easily cleaned windows. But for now, for us, the windows sparkle plenty.
P.S. Am I wrong to assume that everyone knows the origin of this essay's title, "Sparkle Plenty"? You can shout "Ha!" if you know. If you don't—well, what's a search engine for, anyway?
Copyright © 2022 Ann Tudor
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