Most houses around here are quite old and most have one thing in common. Whether you live in an apartment in town like these
a regular house like these
a historic place such as
a fancy old Bed & Breakfast like
a farm, such as I grew up on, something like these
or perhaps something a bit more rustic like
They tend to have windows similar to these
and need fall installation & spring removal. This generally looks something like this
Which is what this post is about.
The farms where I spent the bigger part of my youth were a two farm family operation. Usually this worked out to the benefit of all involved. We always had help doing the chores, projects, and farming in general. One area of responsibility somehow fell to me alone during the third spring I lived there. That particular spring Uncle F took a bad tumble in the apple barn which resulted in a broken leg. Since it was spring and time for storm windows to come down for repairs, cleaning, and storage, and since Uncle F usually did all of that particular chore, it somehow was decided in my absence (tending the horses) that from then on it would be my duty to complete this task as I was big enough to tote said windows up & down a tall ladder safely.
Having helped Uncle F by holding the ladder and observing him do it, it took little extra instruction for me to step into his shoes as far as the windows were concerned. Not knowing this would turn out to my advantage, I did my usual grumbling and muttering under my breath about child labor laws and a definite lack of fairness in deciding who did what. Then, I dragged my butt outside, gathered up the 'window cart', a short & tall ladder, some rope, and assorted tools such as were needed to persuade the windows to give up their winter-induced grip on the house.
It was only on the third day when the last window was removed in the late afternoon that I started to see how some good, in my view anyway, could come from being saddled with this seemingly horrible task. As I unloaded the last of the windows into the small shed we used to repair & store them in during summer I suddenly realized how far from the rest of the farm buildings this shed was. I'd always known of course, just had never really 'noticed' before. The shed was the old snow fence shed which had become too small to hold the ever-growing amount of fence rolls. When the rolls were moved to a newer and larger shed, this one had seemed the perfect place to store the windows that had been, until then, stacked in various locations where space could be found.
That evening after dinner & feeding the horses, I told my Uncle I was going to try to make use of the last daylight to start sorting windows. While I was patiently moving the windows to the door to see them better, I noticed a number of small birds flitting around the edge of the forest behind the shed. Seeing that this activity required young boy monitoring, I promptly crept quietly as close to them as I could manage and sat on the damp pasture grass. I stayed and watched them peacefully going about constructing homes in the trees to house their expected family additions until it was too dark to see them any longer.
The next day I surprised and pleased my Uncle R to no end when I wolfed down breakfast saying I needed to do the horses so I could get an early start on the window repairs. Soon I was where I'd spend the next two weeks, alone and observing the activity in the trees as I worked quietly on getting the windows ready for fall use. To this end, I'd moved the workbench around back of the shed and would use the cart to move a few windows at a time out to be tended to.
And so it was that today, while sitting in my living room with the windows open to the fresh spring breezes, I heard the chirping of a multitude of tiny voices as the birds outside went about constructing homes for the coming summer in the trees next to our building. That sound, and the spring breeze, resulted in my being transported mentally back to that happy time every spring on the farms when I'd 'grudgingly' tackle the 'horrible' task of repairing the storm windows, at least everyone thought I disliked it, and keeping it that way ensured I'd be left on my own. After all, who wants to listen to a whiny, crabby, ill-tempered young boy gripe about unfairness and hard work when they don't need to. Another lesson that's served me well over the years. Let'em think you'll explode if bothered and need to 'calm down'. Then spend quiet time just daydreaming in the spring breezes listening to the birds, or at any other time. It's a great way to spend all or part of the day. Until next time, take care.
