Monday, October 15, 2007

Triple Whammy

(See preceding post for Part One.)

What better way to work off frustration than to clean windows?

It’s a bit too early in the season, of course. That’s because our windows have all been open until today, and when open, they are entirely invisible. They are mostly sliding glass doors, not double doors that slide past one another, but a single, large door that slides on a track on the outside of the house. You never see them at all during the summer. You don’t see them in winter, either, if they’ve been cleaned. That’s why it’s best to wait a week or so past the time when you close them up, before cleaning them. So you get used to their being closed and don't walk into them. I learned that from unfortunate experience. However, all my mopping and floor-polishing failed to calm me down, so windows and doors, here I come!

The stuff that passes for Windex here, I told myself, certainly is crummy. It seems to be making the windows worse. And it stinks; what’s with that? Maybe this is some product meant to clean all sorts of surfaces? Those never work well on glass. Check the bottle. YDROCHLORIKO OXY. Hydrochloric acid! Not in the bright red bottle to which I am accustomed. Not mine, not my brand, not bought by me.

And I’ve been washing windows without gloves! Rush to the bathroom sink, flood hands with water. No apparent damage. Fingernails white enough to wave as surrender flags. Thank You, God, and Guardian Angel, for the fact that I had “accidentally” left my glasses on!

I’m ready to cry.

Find the right stuff for the windows. Back to the sliding glass door, gloves on, to get the hydrochloric acid off. Hard job.

Blood. Blood? Yes, that’s what it is, right there on the bottom of the sliding glass door, outside surface. Spattered droplets, dried on. Some bird must have crashed into the window. The balcony is “fenced” with panels, the bottoms of which are 5 inches from the floor of the balcony. That bird would have had to fly at high speed through that narrow space under the panels and into the window, with the curtains open. Possible. Barely. Look around, carefully. Blood smear on the balcony, just below the railing.

Demetrios will calm my paranoia when he gets home. He’s with Christos right now, demanding an explanation of what has been going on around here. I told Demetrios we don’t need to know; we just need it stopped. He says it’s his house and he does want to know.

So do I, now.