Suddenly it’s spring and that means I can no longer use the “it’s too cold” excuse to not clean windows. It was a bogus excuse anyway because I decided it’s easier to clean these old double-hungs by just taking them apart and doing it inside the house.

That’s a big benefit of having taken the time to strip all the old paint that kept the sashes from sliding up and down. Not only do I now have windows that work, but I also can easily remove the wooden stops and jambs and, in a few minutes, take out both sashes.  It’s a lot easier than trying to clean the glass from the outside, a job that entailed dealing with ladders and screens and storm windows and running in and out of the house and asking for help.

Window Cleaning Stops Here

As I worked my way around the living room today, merrily performing a job that usually doesn’t rise to the top of anybody’s Fun Things To Do list, I came to the window with the broken counterweight rope. I admit it, part of me wanted to just clean the glass and put the thing back together without fixing the counterweight system.

I don’t like that part of me. It’s a part that lies, usually by saying, “I’ll come back and fix that later.”

So window washing is now on pause and window repair has commenced. That’s OK. I find fixing broken sash counterweights to be a really fulfilling job.  I get the feeling it’s a very, very rudimentary form of the satisfaction likely felt by surgeons.

Ready to be Repaired

You remove the screw that holds the narrow counterweight chamber cover. You reach beneath the skin of the house into that dark space. You find the forlorn iron weight that one day plummeted to the bottom of the chamber when the rope broke. You cut the proper length of fresh, new rope. Let the counterweight healing begin.

When the weight is re-connected, when the panes are clean and all the parts are back in place, I’ll be able to enjoy a sparkling view of the spring. And when spring turns to summer, I’ll be able to lift that sash and feel the helpful pull of the dangling iron cucumber as it does its simple-but-ingenious part in bringing a cool breeze into a hot room.