Wednesday, October 15, 2014

High to Climb, Far to Fall

I don't know who said it. It may very well have been my Dad since he's got a gift for phrasing things just this way, but every time I start up a ladder I think:

"It ain't that high to climb, but it's plenty far to fall." 

I'm still mentally chewing on whether that has any greater philosophical applications, but it sure is true about how nervous I am about ladder work. I work very slowly and deliberately up there, and I don't work longer than an hour at a time without breaks.

Which is why there aren't a heck of a lot of pictures about my window-glazing work, not even quick cell phone shots.

Pictures or not, please know this: since late August, I've been in an intimate relationship with this tub of goo:

Just between you and me, I'm glad it's over. The tub is empty, I'm running out of warm weather, and I am done.

I would like to gloat, however, about how proud I am that I replaced a broken window pane all by myself. From beginning to end, that was me.

Here it is mid-situation, after I'd removed the broken pane and put in a cardboard and sheet plastic temporary filler, but before I'd put in the replacement pane (the fire rescue sticker is also gone from the window now)

I feel irrationally proud about this. Like, Freddy Mercury singing "We Are the Champions" to a sold-out Wembley Stadium proud.

The little black thing right of center on the bottom window sill of the top window is
my putty knife, which I didn't realize I'd left up there until I looked at the photo. 
It's not very exciting to look at, is it?

The windows were finished at the end of September, and the storm windows have arrived. They'll be mounted next week, and this face of the house will be done, at least as far as windows are concerned.

I'm on to seeing what I can get accomplished before it's too cold during the daylight hours to paint. Last weekend I worked on some trim:

Working toward making a little more mauve disappear:

And right now my screen porch is a makeshift priming station for siding lumber. More on that situation in a future post:

Everything is a scramble (except on the ladder, please) to make it before truly cold weather sets in, and I still haven't decided what to do about my broken sliding glass door.

It's too bad I can't fix it with another tub of goo.


  1. I'm super-proud of you, too. Because I wouldn't have the first idea of how to fix a broken window pane. And I hate getting up on high ladders, too. (Once I was cleaning the gutters on the garage of my old house, and I leaned too far one way the thing just gave way. My dad happened to be there--aren't dads who help out with house stuff great?--and I scared him to death. Didn't really get hurt much, but now I have a healthy fear.)

    Anyway, I love posts like this. I don't need the step-by-step. It's the triumph at the end I care about. :-)

    1. I'm so glad you weren't hurt!
      I hear you on the rest. We all need a little triumph now and then, don't we?

  2. Broken sliding glass door? I defer my sliding glass door repair to Pella. I know that's not diy, but :-) those things weigh a ton, at least mine do.

    1. Karen Anne, definitely going to be hired out. I'm in over my head with that one, I know.