Windows Finale

In my previous two posts I discussed getting new windows for my home. In Window Whirl I wrote these words:

"The installers also took down my front awnings and disposed of them. I'm left with some paint around the perimeter of where the awings used to be located, thanks to a fast and sloppy paint job a number of years ago."

With the awnings gone, I decided I would try to remove the paint, so Nuria and I went to Home Depot. I bought a gallon of Citristrip paint stripper, an acid scrub brush, latex gloves (should've been nylon because paint stripper can dissolve latex), a pack of three 9 inch paint rollers, a roller stick, and an 11 inch paint roller pan. 

The next day, while Nuria worked, I rolled paint stripper onto the long-dried paint on the bricks. When Nuria came home, I scrubbed it and she handled the garden hose, rinsing off any dissolved paint that came off the bricks. After it dried, it looked a little better, but not a lot better.

The next day around noon, I went outside and took another go at the task. I applied a generous coating of paint stripper all around the front windows. I let it work for a few hours. By now, Nuria was home, so we went out and began trying to remove more paint. Nuria used the hose and I used the scrubber pole. I was close to the house and looking upward, when something happened. I lost my balance and began tilting to my right. I brought my gaze down and twisted my body in the direction I was falling. I managed to take a few steps instead of falling, but I was running toward a brick wall. I put out my right hand to stop myself from hitting the wall, and instead of hitting the wall I bounced off, thanks to my extended right arm, and fell into a bush.

A broken limb in the bush gouged my back in several places. I also sustained a laceration to my right arm. When I stood up, Nuria pulled up the back of my shirt and said, "You have to get into the house." I thought it was no big deal, but Nuria insisted. 

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not. You're bleeding. You have to go inside now." 

Nuria was quite firm, so I knew I had done some damage to myself. I went inside the house and pulled off my shirt. I walked to the bathroom. In the mirror I could see streaks of blood running down my back. I also had an abrasion on my arm that was already swollen.

Nuria patched me up with various bandages and gauze pads. At least, I could put my shirt on without getting blood on it. That was my main concern. It was a shirt Nuria had given me and I didn't want it to get ruined. Somehow, there was not a drop of blood on the shirt, despite streaks of blood on my back. My right arm had an abrasion with streaks of skin missing but it wasn't bleeding. It was scraped and puffy, as if there were a lump under my skin. 

After Nuria patched me up, we went outside to finish the job. Just as we finished, a man driving a pickup truck with a large freezer in the truck bed stopped in front of our house. He shouted at us, so we walked to his truck.

He was making deliveries of meat (like Omaha steaks, but maybe a different brand). He had a customer who didn't take the order, so he wanted to get rid of it rather than drive thirty miles to get the frozen meat back to the company's freezer. He showed us his wares. Various cuts of steak, burgers, chicken, etc. He said it was a $400 package and he would sell it for $178. Nuria buys Omaha steaks, and she inspected everything and said the price was good, so we loaded our freezer with meat. We had to remove all the cuts of meat from the boxes they came in, in order to make all the meat fit into our refrigerator's freezer compartment. 

That night I slept okay, except for my usual insomnia. After a couple hours in bed, I got up and took a melatonin tablet and drank two glasses of wine and went back to bed. I was able to sleep. I wasn't in pain, even when I lay on my injured back, though I don't spend much time in bed on my back. I'm a side-sleeper these days.

Today, I went outside and looked at the result of our work removing paint. White paint was still visible on the bricks, though there was some improvement. I've decided that I've removed as much paint as I'm going to remove. The rest will have to be removed by God when the next big tornado comes through town.

It's a beautiful, sunny fall day. I'm going to open the front windows and the back patio door and allow fresh air inside. An ancient oak tree across the street is shedding its yellowed leaves, and with every breeze they come tumbling down in the sunlight like a resplendent torrent of gold. This is the most beautiful season of the year for those humans who live in this part of the country. I have family in the Tampa—St. Pete area of Florida, and Florida has a nice climate year-round. But I would get tired of it always being sunny and warm, or sunny and hot, except when hurricanes are passing through. I enjoy having four distinct seasons. New windows that can open (unlike my old painted-shut windows) will allow me to enjoy autumn's nice temperatures.

Maybe I'll drive to the river later and take some photos. I'll wait for Nuria to get home from work, of course. She loves getting into the Jeep and going somewhere, anywhere. And today is a good day to go somewhere, anywhere.