Windows

I've lived in my house for 27 years--a gift-that-keeps-on-giving present from my parents. I know every inch of it and could point out the cracks in its concrete walls with my eyes closed.  When I first moved in, all four interior doors hit each other in the tiny space called a "hall." I had three of the doors removed, making this a one-door-inside house. 

It has its flaws, but I wanted a house with flaws, things I could fix a piece at a time.

For all these years, the windows have been un-openable, single panes in metal frames.  Long before I moved in, the crank handles were missing, so even if they had not been painted shut, they were impossible to open.

Enter Ramiro, the glazer.  

The company I hired to paint the house recommended Ramiro.  You won't want to ask for his number. 

After he had finished glazing, I shouldn't have paid him until the head of the company checked it out.  Tuition for me.  Lesson learned.  

The glaze was the hottest mess I've ever seen, ragged and soft and crooked.  But he said, "That's the job of the painters.  They will use razors to smooth it out when it hardens."

I wasn't at home the day of the window painting.  Another lesson learned--but too late.  They painted over the glazing in a dark charcoal color without smoothing it out--which only exaggerated the ugliness.  To this day, two months later, the material he used is soft as Silly Putty.  You can pull hunks of it out by hand. 

Enter Fabian.

Fabian is amazing.  He can do masonry, carpentry, and painting--and he is a perfectionist.  He could have fixed Ramiro's mess, but he suggested I consider installing new windows.

It's not that I hadn't thought of it before, but every worker I've ever asked said it would be impossible to cut into all these concrete walls and install new windows.  It would cost a fortune, they said, IF I could find anyone to do it.

So today, Windows 3 and 4 have been removed and replaced!  It's a noisy project, but the new windows are openable and they change the entire look of the house.  The stucco still needs to be repaired, inside and out, and a few other things, but by the end of next week, it should all be done.

I keep asking myself why I waited so long!  The answer is that I'd believed dozens of prospective window installers, that it was impossible.

"Nothing is impossible," Fabian says.  "Hard, but not impossible.  Trust me."

When he drove to Houston in sheets of rain to pick up my new dining table from David Marsh, the builder of hundreds of thousands of colorful tables like mine, the table  arrived wrapped in four layers of plastic.  (David said not to worry if it did get wet--he's had furniture survive flood waters.)

What happened that I didn't get to see firsthand: David (my age) and Fabian (40 yesterday)--to say "hit it off" doesn't come close--spent  hours together in David's studio.  Fabian was so inspired by David and his work that he offered to drive to Houston once a month to "push a broom"-- to learn from him.  

David has called me twice to express his fondness for Fabian.  It's rare, he said, to find a young man with such character, integrity and skill. He's willing to teach Fabian some of his proprietary techniques.  

I love bringing like-minded people together, and this is one of my best matches!  AND "I can see clearly now" through new windows that actually open. 

(My feet and I agreed: going to Virginia for the graduation party wasn't the best idea--especially since I'm going to go there in June.  The upside of missing the party is getting to watch Fabian, with a bit of help from his friend, Sam, knock out filmy old windows and install new ones.)