I didn’t want to do it.
I didn’t want to lose my great big windows. I mean, hell, I’d designed The Little House of Horrors around my great big windows.
I loved my envisioned big huge gliders and the unobstructed view they’d provide and I didn’t want to have to change them out for smaller windows. I especially didn’t want to fuck with the view from the kitchen.
But I had to.
We got the quotes back on the smaller single hung windows and it was a pppffffffttttt decision. If the difference had only been a couple of hundred bucks or maybe even a thousand or so, I would’ve fought mightily for my big beautiful gliders. I’d’ve impressed upon Miss Carol the importance of choosing what to scrimp on and what not to scrimp on in our dream house The Little House of Horrors. I would’a. Really.
Unfortunately the smaller windows are waaaay less. Like six thousand George Washingtons less.
So, um, yeah.
My big huge gorgeous gliders became a rapidly fading memory and yesterday I rapidly went down to The Little House of Horrors and rapidly re-framed all the windows.
I mean, it’s not bad. The view is still there and all, it’s just a little more prison-ey looking. A little more grid like. But ya know what? For six grand I can live feeling fenced in. Hell, for six grand I can do a whole lot of things.
So, yeah. We changed them all out. By we I mean, you know, ME.
In the bathrooms I decided that instead of a big window in the shower
I’d close the opening down from three foot by six foot to two foot by six foot and install glass block for privacy.
Speaking of which, as it turns out, privacy was one of the unintended results of the great glider compromise.
We have total privacy now.
It’s kinda cool and actually kinda sexy feeling. All of the windows that face the road are five feet above the floor and are only two feet tall. They’re wide, they let in lots of light, but not prying eyes.
Which means Miss Carol can walk around topless if I can ever talk her into it.
Ooh baby, baby.
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