While the real world smiles in anticipation of the first day of spring, here in sunny south FL, we watched it arrive and then we waved goodbye as it drove right on by all in the same day. Today I welcomed Summer already, with the flip of the switch on the old A/C. OK, “Welcomed" is a generous word. And it’s a lie. Summer's arrival is untimely. It was other, less kind, murmurings that poured from my lips as the early summer heat closed in today. Just liike that, humidity and bad hair days. Cruel fate.
We really did have to turn the air on tonight. Ever since the front window broke just as our first really cold spell hit, we haven’t been able to open it, or really close it. That makes both front windows unusable now and it's kind of hard to breathe in here. The stupid window crank broke right off (second time for this window) and me and Cally’s cellophane plastered window rig has started to break free. (Yeah, we actually cellophaned over the whole window. What did you think we’d do? Call someone to fix it? ) We couldn't get it to stay all the way shut and it was getting into the 30’s and windy. We had just bought some of that new press and seal wrap when the window crank came off in my hand, and we were really excited by the possibilities, so we gave it a shot. It was impressive. We were impressive. We used packing tape and scotch tape, pretty much anything sticky, to reinforce it. Uh, yeah... So, anyone interested in more tips about this ingenious technique may leave a question in my comment section. I’ll gladly share our time tested secrets with those who inquire, free of charge. Really.
So, now that Summer has come in like tyrant, the window may have reached that point of irrigablility of which I spoke in my previous post “Yabba, Dabba, Doo!”. I’m afraid that I may have to, you know, hire someone to fix it...
Pah! Right! Everyone knows the next step after a rig is to fix it yourself. If you could pay to hire someone, you would have done it months ago and saved yourself the trouble of explaining to everyone what that strange swish-swish sound is (the one that sounds like cellophane rustling as a breeze passes by). Trouble is, I’m not entirely up to the miss-fix-it challenge just yet either. I have done this intolerable job three times, and I’ve found the work as impossible as both aol and the weedeater combined, and still, somehow rewarding in turn. I had never replaced a window crank before and I found there are some scientific laws involved that are borderline math (even to the point of geometry... yeah, now you know what I’m talking about. This is big time). Well, I figured out how to do it by myself, which was the rewarding part, but there are easier ways to pop a vein in your forehead. And the fact that one of the cranks broke immediately after I put it in, as I tried to close the window, and the other only lasted about two years almost makes me wonder... almost.
So, here’s what I’m thinking. I wait for that one last cool front to push through (please, please let one more come through), and then I take up the tools (whatever I can find to make them) and spring for two new window cranks and make a day of it while the temperature still signs in at under 80 degrees. (Does anyone know how to make the degrees sign? I’ve pushed a lot of keys with other keys and I’m getting nowhere.) Or I may break down and call a few places and hire someone to do it who will guarantee their work and get it done in 15 minutes flat for a possibly reasonable fee. I think I would be simultaneously elated and ticked if I found out that such a repair is really cheap and I have gone all these months with an astounding rig job to my name for no reason.
I know... what am I saying? It is one of my few claims to fame. Where would I be without such credits. Someday when I’m gone, they will erect a wall with etched scenes from the rigging hall of fame... me and Cally pressing and sealing cling wrap to the window to welcome the Christmas season, me and Casey digging post holes with paint stirrers, me cutting the tree branches off with the only thing I could find, a hack saw blade (just the blade, no saw), me... well, you get my drift. I think we all agree, I belong in the hall of something anyway.
Did you see that I performed surgery on your errant post? You just delete it. You can't edit comments, you can only delete them.
ReplyDeleteI've thought about your ripped screen dilemma. I have not personally had to face the screen issue in some time. However, now that I think about it, Dad was the original rig king and screens were his specialty. Remember the screens sewn back together, the screens epoxied back together, and patches made? I do recall that he finally bought new screen and used that little screen roller thing on it, and then the screen became a sacred zone, not to be touched, pushed, or looked at. Maybe you could just rip yours out altogether and never open the sliding door again. Or take the screen out and when you open the slider, you could live with the outdoors coming in at will. You have such a short time left there and you do so love the out of doors. This is probably what I would do as long as a big lumbering dog shares the premises.
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