I hate cleaning windows. I love the way they look when they are clean, but I hate cleaning them. I don’t care who knows it. And that includes the windows. My husband has purchased gadgets and gizmos to do the exteriors, but we still have screens and interiors to clean. I have neighbors who love to clean windows, so my windows have cleaning envy.
My window washing disdain dates back to my old house. Built in 1928, it had massive wood windows that required hauling the storms off the window frames, storing them and then cleaning the interiors. The windows were heavy and so were the screens. And they were almost as tall as me. The first floor alone had 19 windows. Gradually, I replaced the old house’s dinosaurs with newer models and/or lighter weight storm/screen combinations, but my disdain for window cleaning remains.
This house is twice as big and has 13 first-floor windows, but they have removable muntins. I love the look of muntins until I have to pull them out and reinsert them in the same holes — one is right in the lock. Who does that? Right now, I have three windows done. I have tried paying the kids to do them, but repairs are too costly.
My boys were better at breaking windows than cleaning them. Howie broke more than one window in our old sunporch just fooling around with my tennis racket. He also is the one who, while outside, threw a snowball at his brother, who was inside — breaking both the storm and interior windows. The basement windows were broken so many times by soccer balls that I installed glass block.
I admit I broke a few windows myself. I killed a bug with my wallet one time, and smashed the kitchen window — must have been full of pennies.
I know all the tricks: Vinegar, newspaper, squeegees, add a teaspoon of dish soap. I’m a Windex girl myself. Sometime before Sunday, I plan to get at least those other three windows on the front of the first floor done. And then we will be in for a storm of biblical proportions. And after that, I must clean out the closets. Every time a kid moves out, I take over a closet. I now have spring, summer, winter and fall closets. Oh and a closet of stuff I don’t know what to do with. My husband is not amused, but I will remind him how lovely the windows look.