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Sunday, October 25, 2015

Today I am grateful for Google! The saga of the damned window cleaning process continues. I finished the back yesterday. We don’t exactly live in a solarium, even though by my level of bitching you’d think we did. There are six windows in back and two patio door panels. But they’re big and tall.

The only thing left to do downstairs was the two kitchen windows. I didn’t do the outsides with the squeegee because the shrub is such a pain to work around. “I think I should go on line and figure out how to get the double hung windows to tilt in and do them that way,” I innocently said to my husband, yesterday. Great idea.

So this morning, while he was still sleeping and the temperature was still set back cooler, I got up, looked on line and figured it out. The man in the video went blip-blip-clip-tip-click-click and those suckers were down, tipped and back in place. Easy peasy.

I moved the table, set the ladder, got the insides washed and blip-blipped the bottom window out to rest on the ladder rung. Piece-o-cake! Clean and shiny, now I had to get the top one down and tipped. But I couldn’t get close enough to reach it because the windows are huge. The guy in the video used a tiny “demo” window. Creep.

I had to tip the bottom one up and balance it on my. . .um. . .chest, while at the same time reaching and grabbing the top one down, blip-bliping the clips and “popping” it towards me. With the hooters assisting I got them both down, resting on the ladder. . .and cleaned.

Okay. Now all I have to do is tip the top one up, pop the bottom one in place and voila! Finished. Hahahahahaha! I shoved the top one back, tried to push it up. . .and it wouldn’t hold. I’d push it up again. It fell back down. Two hundred times. I simply couldn’t get it up by myself because it was too big and I couldn’t get close enough what with the other window balancing on my boobs.

I heard himself moving around and went in to tell him I needed help. . . before his tea or breakfast. This is dangerous. He came out and between the two of us we couldn’t figure it out. A mysterious string was curling up next to the window. Why? Geeze! Where is that idiot on the video when I need him?

“I can’t do this without breakfast,” he announced. I get it. He barely says hello before breakfast and now I’m asking him to think. “Okay. I’m going to Google this again and be specific.” I don’t handle frustration well. While patience were handed out in Heaven I was in the “hip” line twice! I was beyond frustrated.

While the tea water was heating, I made him watch a video. It didn’t help because we didn’t have the same mechanism that they were talking about. We went back to the window to try again anyway. Nope. I got crankier. Instead of shoving me out the door and locking it behind me, he said probably the best line of the entire day. . .”If I pulled that hair out of your butt your eyeballs would fall out!” What a romantic! Laughter always helps. Every time!

I went to another site and it told us to push the window down an inch, to be sure it clicks into place, BEFORE trying to shove it up. Swell. Why didn’t the other forty sites say that? Voila! It worked.

So nah-nah, boo-boo, our windows are all shiny clean. . .except where our paws smudged them trying to wrestle them back into place. Too bad! Clean enough! And we’re still married. Thank God. . .and Google. Amen!