The weather has been really nice lately. The Florida heat has finally (though likely temporarily) broken and evenings and morning have become deliciously cool and autumn like. Our house is what you would call a fixer-upper. We’re slowly renovating it, but new windows are low on the list. Because of this we still have four or five of those old timey windows that roll out and screens that may or may not be present. Given the amazing weather we’ve been having and a visual ticker in my head of the power bill quickly decreasing, I set about opening all the windows with screens that would open. Then I noticed that the second of the two roll out windows in our bedroom actually has a screen in it, but it won’t open. Having both windows open would create the perfect airflow and pull air in from the kitchen. The window had to be opened.
I lifted the storm window and poked at the outside window through the screen. Yeah. It’s closed tight. I try the roll out handle again just in case I maybe did it wrong before. Nope. Still just twirls around with no movement from the window. Maybe I can pull it open from the outside. I walk around the house and reach up to the outside of the window, but I’m just too short by about 4 inches and I can’t get enough leverage to give it a yank. I scan the yard for boosting potential. I see a variety of useless items, two fold up camping chairs, a stack of landscape timbers, dog’s water bowl…wait. That’s a pretty big bowl. And it’s pretty sturdy. I set it on the ground upside down and test it with one foot. Seems ok, so I carry it to the window. Holding on to the window sill, I carefully placed one foot on the bowl and put some weight on it. Please don’t bend…please don’t bend…so far so good. I stepped up on the bowl and grabbed the bottom of the window pane. Just as I was working my fingers under the edge of it, the bowl suddenly sinks into the ground, nearly pulling the skin off my fingertips. I let out a string of words that probably caused the neighbors to lock their doors and took a moment to walk around the yard waving my injured hand. I don’t know why waving works, but it does. The window wins this round. I head back into the bedroom to devise a new plan.
As I examine the window from the inside I notice that my flailing injury managed to loosen the seal and I can move it a little by poking the screen. Huh. I go get a box cutter and a wire coat hanger. Like a skilled surgeon, I make a tiny incision in the screen right in front of the aluminum frame of the lowest window pane. I straighten then insert the hanger into the hole and give it a push. The window shifts, but the hanger bends a little. This may be my best plan yet. I bend the hanger in half to make it stronger and try again. It’s moving! The hanger starts to bend a little and I shift the weight so that it’s more centered and push a little harder. I hear an awful, grating sound of metal hanger on aluminum window frame as the hanger slips its position and rips a giant hole in the screen. I just stare at it for a minute. When I am absolutely certain that that just happened, I slowly stick my whole hand through the hole and push the window wide open. I stare at it for another minute, admit defeat and go get the duct tape.
A few hours later, Dewie arrives home. “It feels great in here.” She walks into the bedroom. “Hey! You got the window open! Why is there tape on it?”
“The screen had a big ole honking hole in it. You know these old windows…”
“Yeah. Nothing in this house works right.”
Indeed.
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