Second Time These Windows Sent Somebody to the Hospital

An explanation for that title is certainly due. Several years ago - pre-baby, pre-prego, for sure, I had a TRIP at my house. (TRIP = Totally Random Incredible Party) This TRIP was in honor of my bday, a small affair that turned a little crazay thanks to a little green fairie.

We were all in the kitchen when Mike tripped (literally this time) and his hand landed on one of the old windows... and when right through the glass. And me? I was so excited about the window breaking. "I hate these windows!" I think I yelled, and started punching out the remaining glass panes. I may have destroyed the neighborhood had the guys not pulled me away to the sink, where they washed my now bloody hand and bandaided me up. Then I ran off and started dancin' but that's another story.

Mike and I post-accident at the TRIP with Wigs!

The next morning, Mike and I woke up with swollen, painful wounds on our punching hands and had a nifty story to tell the morning crew at the ER.

That was the FIRST time the old kitchen windows sent someone to the hospital. Now let me set you up for the second time.

Sunday, Timmy's son had a brand new baby - so he was definitely excused for stair-duty. But Mike decided to get started anyway. He dug and poured the one needed sonotube footing.

He also prepared and poured the larger slab footing.

But after that, he was excited to rip off the siding on the kitchen. Excited... PSHAW. You couldn't keep that man from his mission. But I'm proud to say, he set himself a stop point. He'd take the siding off, but not the old shingles underneath. Good thing. If the shingles came off, that was the point of no return. Shingles off - you have to put up plywood, take out the old windows, and tyvek. And at this point it was 1pm, soooo... yeah. Shingles off - he'd be working til midnight.

I'm proud to say he stuck to his stop point too! He took off the siding and then cleaned up and that was it!

Here was the outside of the kitchen - this morning.

We're getting to the hospital story now...

So today Mike got some free time and decided to finish up the job. He took off all the shingles and repaired the sill, which was leaking air like crazy. I talked to Mike on the phone and he said he could already feel a difference in how the room was holding heat. Awesome, I thought.

Now... somewhere between the shingles off and the plywood on, there was an incident. I'm still not quite sure of the details, but basically - nail gun + foot = mucho malo. (Our framing gun has gained itself a little bit of a temperamental reputation. I'm scared of it, personally.) Thinking it wasn't so bad, Mike kept on working. He took out the windows and completed the plywood.

Unfortunately, by the time I got home from work, he was in a whole bunch of pain and decided to go to the ER. He's probably on his way back right now, actually. He sent me a text and said they had to cut into his foot. Sounds terrible! I almost don't want to hear the details. And I definitely don't want to see the foot, but I know that's the first thing he's going to want to show me.

Anyway! (I'm not thinking about it!) Those windows were cursed, and I'm so happy they're gone. This is not a trilogy!