How to Write Well When the Window are Dirty and You're Not Able to Clean Them.
Hint: Read Below So You Never Have to Face Filthy Windows While You're Writing or Typing.
I’m all about facing a window while I’m writing. Unlike some writers who need to be surrounded by four walls and no window, I need to see out windows while I’m writing. Right now, I can see a partial reflection of myself while I type. The sun’s behind clouds, the sidewalks away from my apartment building are stained with rain.
I let my eyes rest on the the puddles on the street. I’m waiting for the streetcar to pull up at a stop in front of my building any minute now. I know the car’s schedule by heart. Someone with a backpack has just walked up the stop and waits.
As soon as the sun comes out again, I’m reminded glaringly just how dirty my windows are, especially the upper exteriors that I cannot reach. It’s stained with dribbles of past rains, bird droppings and the occasional splat of a dead insect. I hate seeing these dirty upper windows every time I draw up the blinds. I can’t get at the outside windows and it bothers me constantly. I imagine how breathtakingly beautiful
my windows would be if only the outsides were spiffed up and completely clean. Sunrises would appear even more gorgeous. Thunderstorms with lightening streaking across the sky multiple times in a minute would even more spectacular. Gulls soaring in the sky would appear even more vivid.
But I see everything through dirt that I cannot remove, that I have no control over. Building managers have yet to schedule an exterior cleaning even once in the three years that these new windows have been in place. They weren’t even clean when the window guys fitted the panes into place. Even then they were smeared with dirt from rain. I was so excited about the windows until I saw how dirty they were and I knew I’d never see them clean. Window screens got a good scrubbing too to remove dead mosquitos, flecks of cottonwood lint and bird droppings.
I come from a clean-window family (in the same way that my friend and writer Jon Sweeney says he came from a library-family). Regular as rain, my older brother Paul was charged with removing the screens in all windows in our two-story house and putting in the glass windows for fall and winter. These had to be super-clean before Paul put them in. I had to clean them with newspapers, a spray bottle filled with vinegar and water. This two-person task took hours. Dirty window screens were sprayed clean with a water hose to remove spider webs, flecks of cottonwood lint and droppings. This huge household chore ended with Paul putting the screens behind the basement furnace for next summer.
So the windows from my second-floor bedroom window were always clean as they were twice a year. Imagine what it’s been like as a renter (and condo owner) not to be able to have that just-cleaned-window feeling when I walk into home and sit down to write. My life feels out of control when I can’t clean my windows. It’s like the rest of the house is dirty if the windows are smeared. The sunlight is more dim, my house feels less lovely. I’ve been half-tempted to rent one of those trucks with automated scaffolding just to clean my windows. They would only have to extend the scaffolding all of three stories. If they’d let me, I’d don a helmet, arm myself with a spray bottle and do the work. I’d get the work done in less than an hour.
And then my house would be drop-dead gorgeous even if the sun cast its brilliant light on piles of laundry, dusty window ledges and blinds. I’d could write better, I reason.
But I can’t control the exteriors of my windows.
Ideally, if clean windows matter to you as a writer and lover of life in a clean home, inside and out, buy or rent a home where you can easily clean the exterior windows. If you rent in a high-rise, find out from the landlord how often they clean exterior windows. Don’t trust what they say, though. They’ll probably tell you it gets done once a year. Find out what the true story is from other renters in the building.
I wanted to include a shot of a first-floor window of a local rental. I could set up a ladder and clean this window from the sidewalk easily. I’m flummoxed why the renter doesn’t do this. His/her cat would have a better view. Alas, the shades are almost always drawn to keep gawkers like me at bay.
Still I write and type on my Selectric, so while the gross windows bother me it hasn’t stopped me from putting words on paper or tapping away on my laptop keyboard. I control what I can, cleaning the lower windows that do open. I dare not touch the screens which might fall to the ground outside if I try to remove and clean them. Besides, bugs would get inside if I did that.
So I make do. And enjoy my windows the most when the sun’s not shining and I can’t see the dust as well. Writing is writing and ideally, should be able to done where ever you can. My Typepal in Ireland is a great example. He writes on scrap of paper while waiting in line at the grocery store instead of scrolling on his phone as most shoppers do.
So I’m not letting my dirty windows be an excuse for not writing. I’m not letting even the laundry, the smeared doors and kitchen floor keep me away from putting fingers to the keyboard (laptop or typewriter).
Instead, I’ll use whatever cleaning I can do as an excuse to draw creativity. As I clean my windows with a spray bottles, I’ll be inspired with a story idea. As I clean the bathroom mirror, another great idea for a book or an article will strike. Naturally, I won’t act all the ideas, but if it’s a good idea I’ll return to it again as writer Verlyn Klickenborg in his book, A Few Short Sentences about Writing. He says notice what you’re noticing. Good ideas always come back.
I’ll stop here to drop in some photos, clean and do laundry. If you want a picture of me post cochlear-surgery tomorrow, drop a note in the comments and I’ll direct message you with one. Otherwise, tell me how you ignore dirty windows when you love to write in front of a window.
One more thing before I go. If you’re so inclined, please to subscribe to my monthly Stampfans account. You’ll get a letter from me in the USPS mail, likely chapters of my new book, A Car Ferry Tale.