Cats' Eyes

Given our absence for the past few days, do you think they'll be looking for us?

Or hiding from us?

Getting the Stains off the Glass

Water and a wet rag took the window from this:

to this:

The principle at work is to start mild and then use increasingly heavier cleaners only as needed.  I really wanted to see what wonders the #0000 steel wool would do to it, but we don't have time for me to be picky.  It does look better than it did, anyway, and that's good enough for now.

The Last Pear

They look like a cross between apples and pears, and Asian pears taste and crunch that way, too. So sweet. Mmmm....

Paul found this pear on the other side of our back fence after we thought we'd seen the last pear on the tree. It's a perfect specimen, completely unmarred by epicurean insects. What a fitting way to signify the close of a fruitful season.

I Can See Clearly Now

The stuff on the window panes refused to go quietly with a razor blade, so I did some research.  A professional window cleaner on the internet recommends using #0000 steel wool in cases like this.

Boy, does he know what he's talking about.

(That's not a crack you see in the window; it's the arched window resting with the rest of the windows that don't have cracks.  *sigh*)

Now I'll have to ask someone like him about the best way to safely clean stained glass windows.

All Digits on Deck

Yes, the cats helped measure the plastic for the 3-H.  I'm sure they did.

Oh, Is It Autumn?

I prefer to think of it as late summer.  And under the double protection offered by our 3-H once it's completed, it will still feel like late summer.

Paul installed part of the plastic on the 3-H today.  We needed to get all the spinach and lettuce seeds in the soil today.

We also planted the first of our radishes and onions.  Only two more weekends are available for successive  plantings.  In the meantime we're waiting for seeds to plant our mâche, which is known as corn salad in the United States or lamb's lettuce in England.

If all goes as hoped, our winter garden will mature enough in the autumn for us to harvest in winter, when our boxes will be further protected with floating row covers.

Can you imagine dining on fresh homegrown salads in the winter?  We can.

As we bask in the glow of hope, it's time to call it a day.

Not Framed: I Really Did It

The height of the windows from the inside is one thing.  The height from outside is just a little bit more.  Look carefully, and a small person in navy blue should be visible next to that red space elevator leaning against the building.  Near the top of that ladder is where I've spent two of my recent afternoons.

In preparation for winter and to protect the wood storm window frames and trim from its effects, I've been scraping out old glazing and paint while trying to balance comfortably on the narrow ladder rungs.

The view from there isn't always pretty, either:

What is that cloudy stuff on the inside of the glass?!  I don't know, but I really didn't want to leave it there.  We hadn't been planning to take the storm windows down, and Paul was reluctant to undertake that project, even though it would be the only way to clean it up.  What to do?  Leave it there to spoil the look of the freshly painted windows?  Or spend a lot more time on each window than we'd originally thought?

The answer came in a way I would have rathered it didn't:

Yes, that's a crack.  I applied to much force on the putty knife in trying to get out that old, stubborn, dried-out glazing, and I cracked the glass.  Argh.

Long story short, Paul climbed the ladder to take a look at the situation and began taking out the panes of glass.  Now I'm cleaning the windows (I still don't know what that stuff is, and it's awfully stubborn about coming off!), and he's being more particular about removing the old paint from the wooden frame.

It would seem that to do the job right we can't just paint the weathered wood; because of its age and condition we need a wood restoring product that will allow the paint to properly adhere for years to come.

It's not that I don't like hanging out with a paint scraper in the upper strata of the troposphere, but I'd really prefer to do the job right the first time and do something more enjoyable a second time.

Wouldn't you?