See-Through

In a Dutch house, the windows are a point of pride. And here I am not talking about intricate colored glass and lead designs. Nor am I speaking of windows which are frosted and elegantly etched. Rather I am referring to windows that are clean.

Spotless.

Streakless.

Sparkling.

Clean.

The technique for getting them thus runs along these lines: The huisvrow soaps up the entire window with a sponge until it is opaque, spending time scrubbing at any sticky spots. At this point the window looks like a giant finger painting; dips and swirls of suds decorating its surface. Then with swiftness and stunning artistry the whole of the soap bubble mess is wiped away in smooth, swooping, perfect strokes with a rubber squeegee. Zip- Zap-Zoom! The windows are clean.

Spotless.

Streakless.

Sparkling.

My next-door neighbor has an apparatus for getting it all done without getting your hands wet. It is a telescoping pole with a double-sided rectangular-shaped contraption at the head. One side has a sponge for the lathering step and the other is the squeegee side. It is similar in nature to the device you find at a gas station used for removing bug guts from the windshield of your car. Only this is bigger, badder and gets the job done faster. She even has a rectangle shaped bucket so you don't have to struggle to dip the sponge into the warm bubbles before smearing the foam over the glass. In the world of clean windows, this is a gadget of great worth.

And, she is generous to share the wealth with me and allows me to borrow the marvelous machine whenever the need arises.

I try not to be too offended when she mentions to me that I haven't asked in "quite some time" to borrow the bucket and pole. I take this to mean she has noticed that my front windows could really do with a good cleaning. In this as in many things I am not so very Dutch, and when the rain and the dust have covered the pane in dot-to-dot chaos, I tend to pull the blinds and pretend it's just not there. It works well for me.

Having the sun show up on a regular basis the last week or so has really demonstrated the dire need of clean my windows were in. I have the blinds set wide open at this point in the year to welcome every drop of sun that shines down from the sky. The downside of course being that when that precious sunlight radiates through the glass it has to fight through the smudge and streaks on the window. And I can't ignore that forever. So, the Saturday chores this week included the ritual of window washing. I retrieved the bucket and pole from my neighbor and set to work cleaning windows doing my best to emulate the superior style of the Dutch. I soaped. I scrubbed. I squeegeed. Zip. Zap. Zoooooom. My windows were dirt free.

Nearly spotless.

Almost streakless.

Somewhat sparkling.

Clean enough.

I stood back to admire my handiwork and was fully impressed with a job well done. I had my own moment of pride gazing through crystal clear windows into the front garden. And then of course, as I have come to expect while living here, Dutch weather struck. And while I lay in bed Saturday night listening to the wind whip and howl outside, all I could think about was my precious clean windows and the raindrops which would inevitably leave trails across the casement the same way the teardrops would ultimately draw a path down a certain toddler's cheek when the patter of rain and the whine of wind woke him from slumber.