Window Washing Blues
I hate washing windows. Let me reiterate that. I hate washing windows. I like to feel that I am accomplishing something. Time is precious. I don’t want to waste any of it. Yet washing windows feels like a waste of time. No matter how hard I try, I end up with windows with streaks and marks. They even look worse than before I started. So why even try? I’m singing the window washing blues!
My Mom and Window Washing
This year, I decided I was going to wash my windows before the snow flies and I am left barricaded inside looking at snow through dirty windows.
I remember my mom washing windows every year. She would take them outside and meticulously clean them. Better to avoid her on those days lest you get trapped into helping under her finicky eyes.
My mom was a neat freak when it came to her home. Nothing less than perfection was good enough. I don’t think she liked washing windows any more than I do, but she did it fanatically. Before we went on any long trips in the car, she would make sure the windows were spotless because she didn’t like looking out of dirty windows. I don’t know why she did this since she usually fell asleep the minute my dad pulled out of the driveway. Still, we had clean windows.
My mom tried different methods over the years to get her windows clean. Vinegar and water, dish soap, using my dad’s old t-shirts or paper towels to wipe them dry. She even tried newspaper after reading this tip. She was relentless in her pursuit of clean windows, as she was about pretty much anything related to her home and family. Sitting through mom’s haircuts wasn’t so bad. What was terrible was her fusing about it afterwards, constantly wanting to get it just right, chasing after me with her scissors in order to make one more attempt to straighten my bangs.
I didn’t inherit this neat gene from my mom. My idea of decorating for Halloween is to let cobwebs grow naturally throughout my home all year. Why spend time and money on Halloween decorations when there are perfectly good cobwebs for the asking?
Window Washing Blues
Much as I hated it, I told myself I was going to wash windows. I had done my research and found that a few drops of Dawn in warm water and a squeegee should do the trick. Armed with my bucket of soapy water and squeegee in hand, I attacked my windows. Four hours later, after struggling with windows that tipped in to be cleaned so I didn’t have to take them out, I was done.
I walked into my sunroom, the one I most wanted to be clean so I could enjoy watching the sunrise through clean glass, and gasped. Streaks on the sliding doors. I attacked with my drying cloth and removed them. The I went into the kitchen. The sun shone through the window over the sink, exposing streaks and spots. The one I had done aerial acrobatics to clean, climbing onto the counter and into the sink. And then the front room. More of the same.
Maybe I will wash my windows again … in ten years. In the meantime, I’m singing the window washing blues and indulging myself with Edy’s chocolate peanut butter ice cream.
What about you? Do you also sing the window washing blues? Or have you found the secret to sparkling clean windows?
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