Storm Windows 101

Nancy is a true wordsmith, but having spent her entire life on that other coast, she occasionally has to ask me to explain words I toss around on Twitter or in emails. Particularly in the winter. You know, words like balaclava. (Do you Californians get different L.L. Bean catalogs than the rest of us too?)

This morning I tweeted, "It's 72° already! The storm windows are up! The kids are coated with sunscreen and playing outside with the hose!" (For the record, it's already up to 84° now! Woo-hoo!) Nancy tweeted back, "Does 'putting the storm windows up' mean 'taking them down'?"

Ahem. I'm quite sure there are storm windows that you actually remove and store in your garage, but our very old house has very old double-hung windows, and they work like this:

1. Winter position: storm window down (lower half, behind actual window part that goes up and down, which is currently closed), screen up (upper half, behind 6-pane glass that can go up and down, but we don't bother).

2. Unlock rusty old dohickey on top of lower half:

3. Push window up. No breeze yet, though, because the storm window is still down.

4. Engage little latchy things at bottom of storm window...

5. ...and push storm up!

6. Now there's nothing between you and the great outdoors!

7. Reach up to where you just pushed storm and engage little latchy things on screen:

8. Pull screen down:

9. Voilà! Fresh air coming in through the screen!

10. Repeat for all windows in house. (In about six months, prepare to reverse instructions—screens back up, storms back down.)

11. Oh, one more thing: See that little striped rope? That's the sash; there's one on each side. If that breaks, it releases somewhere into the bowels of the woodwork. Then you have to find an old-school handyman who knows how to fix window sashes.

It seems fitting to close with lyrics from one of my favorite John Prine songs, "Storm Windows." Here's the first verse:

I can hear the wheels of automobiles
So far away, just moving along through the drifting snow.
It's times like these when the temperatures freeze
I sit alone just looking at the world through a storm window.
Down on the beach, the sandman sleeps
Time don't fly, it bounds and leaps
And a country band that plays for keeps
They play it so slow....

Comments

[Elena]

I've lived on the East Coast practically my whole life (and in cold climes my whole life) and have never had these. They seem very convenient!

[TwoBusy]

I do NOT miss dealing with those latch things. Thank you, replacement windows.

[Karen]

Elena: They're really very old and rickety and not so easy to use. Do you have the kind that come out? We have very modern windows in Pete's attic lair; they're so air-tight they don't need storms.

[Sara]

You forgot the part about the spiders and cobwebs that are always on those latch things and the squeals of disgust when you have to stick your fingers in them.

[ShortyMom]

Ours is set up so that when you raise the storm window the screen is already there and you don't have to lower it. Mine doesn't have the string either..

[Maureen Potter]

I have the same windows as you do. Same storms, same sashes, same latches. Our house is circa 1937. We were up to 27C today (London On) and then a huge thunderstorm and the temp dropped to 17C in minutes. Someone or something got hit, judging by the number of sirens-police, ambulances, and fire.

[Sharon]

Wow, we used to live in a very old house and I had almost forgotten about those windows! Those storm windows were so heavy and I remember that one window used to always come crashing down. Funny. I miss the charm of that old house, but modern windows are a dream!

[Margaret]

I've never heard of such windows although it sounds a lot like our screen door system. And the correct word is balaclava, but I rarely if ever see anyone wearing one. If I did, I might call the police because it could be a bank robber!

[Nancy]

Thank you, Karen! I am in awe. I would last about 90 seconds in a New England winter. You'd find me in a frostbitten heap beneath a storm window I had failed to conquer.

For the record, I don't remember ever seeing an LL Bean catalog until I was well into my 20s. I don't think the company mailed to California back then. We shopped from the Sears, Roebuck catalog; if it carried winter-survival gear like balaclavas (or "parkas" or "anoraks," also utter mysteries to me for many years--the only coat I owned was, of course, a "car coat"), I must not have noticed. I did pick up the term somewhere along the way, and finally saw a balaclava when I took up cross-country skiing as an adult. But Sierra ski conditions tend to be pretty warm; I'd be more likely to ski in a bikini than a balaclava.

[Elisson]

Balaclava (n.) - Headgear worn when eating Middle Eastern pastries.

[Wendy]

I saw John Prine on Saturday. He did not sing that song, but he did turn in a stellar performance. I wept through most of the evening, those songs were so poignant. It was great. And Josh Ritter opened -- very nice. And oh yes, I know from storm windows.

[Patricia]

Can I oil the metal part of windows so that they go up and down easier?