I never realized how much clean windows matter. Pierre spent a whole day cleaning the windows in my study and it’s like a new room. Instead of having a thin film of grease and grime between me and my view, all I have is clean sparkling glass. I can see the lawn!
Inspired by his effort and this new clean vision, I got to work on the downstairs windows. Windex in one hand and paper towels in another, I rubbed and wiped away years of dirt (and grease?). Of course, in my version of window cleaning only the bottom halves needed cleaning. Who has time to deal with the ladder? And really, who looks out the top half of a window? Well, as I survey my handiwork, I now realize that a crystal clear bottom half makes the top half look even worse. My solution? I’m hanging some lace.
Then I’ll get to see the world through the muted and misty lens of Victorian romance. Which will do a nice job of blocking my view of the hairy naked man on one side and the beige vinyl siding on the other.