}

Tuesday, October 14, 2025

Screening an idea

The process of obtaining quotes for my “Operation Re-invent My House” continued today, making it fly screen (aka window screen) day. Tomorrow I have a consultation with a company that provides battery banks for solar electricity systems, and that’s the last visit for quote for this week. However, on Thursday a company that specialises in cleaning solar panels is coming round to clean mine and to remove the lichen that’s started growing on my solar panels. So, the week continues to be busy.

I originally wanted fly screens that are hinged at the top because they work well with the style of windows in my house. I knew about the screens because the house Nigel had when I arrived in New Zealand had them, and it turns out they were put in by the couple he bought the house from: A Kiwi guy and his partner, an American guy who wanted the screens. No wonder that house felt so comfortable from the beginning…

Today, however, the guy pointed out that the bedroom windows have thick blinds (which, you may recall, I had installed in my house back in 2020, shortly after I shifted into my house), and the blinds don’t leave enough clearance. So, I’m getting quotes for less expensive magnetic screens on most windows, which has its own sub-story: All the joinery in my house is aluminium (“joinery” means windows and the frames they're in, though framing around the whole window is wood, like the framing around doors or at the floor level). This is true for most Kiwi houses, especially ones built over the past 40-50 years. So, they install magnetic tape onto the window frame, and then attach tape with the other magnetic pole to the screens themselves. I'm familiar with this because Nigel and I did something similar with plexiglass to add faux double pane layers to windows at our house on Auckland's North Shore. Because this method secures the entire circumference of the screen, it has an excellent seal—however, it’s not what I originally wanted.

In the main bedroom (mine), I’m also getting a quote for the most-expensive option, where rigid screens slide along a track, but I’m just not sure. I know that whatever I chose, the total cost would be lower than I originally expected, and that’s something, however, I need to think about this whole idea some more.

As I’ve said, window screens are rare in New Zealand, so this whole thing is mostly about me and what I want, but: Would it really make that much difference to me for the, what, four or five months that the temps are pleasant enough to leave the windows open? And, if I can’t have what I want, should I then pivot and want something just because it’s what I can have?

Still a lot to think about, and it’s utterly exhausting. I was thinking late this afternoon that at first, all the planning and considering various changes to my house was kind of invigorating and even exciting. But as this process has gone on, the gloss has worn off. I’m tired of having to decide every single thing by myself, not because there aren’t folks to consult, because the family is more than willing. Rather, it’s because for 24 years Nigel and I decided everything together, and now I have to decide every damn thing on my own. Advice and feedback is great—absolutely!—but it pales in comparison to weighing options with one’s life partner who has a stake in the outcome.

Put another way, as I said last July, when I quoted myself saying in 2019 “This isn’t fun any more.” Still, once this evaluation and research stage is over and the changes actually begin, I know it’ll get exciting again—at least, for awhile.

And related to that future me, there are developments to what’s happened so far. Last week I had visits from two companies, and there are updates. First, I got an email telling me that the order for the blinds I ordered for the toilet (room, not throne), bathroom, and en suite has been sent to their factory in Christchurch for fabrication. They’ll let me know when they’re ready to be installed.

Also, I got the quote for the patio pergola and it was substantially lower than I was expecting—almost 50% less, actually, and more than 50% less than I’d budgeted (because I originally wanted a louvred roof, which is much more expensive). I know I “should” get quotes from other suppliers, but I admit I’m torn about that: I really like what they offer, I know the company well, a long-established company with a good reputation, I like that they use cast aluminium rather than steel (because steel inevitably rusts), and I like that the parts are manufactured in New Zealand. And, their price is good. I’ve researched other providers online only, and wasn’t persuaded to ask for a quote, but I’ll manage to force myself to do that.

And that’s where this story is as for today. More to come—I guess…

2 comments:

Roger Owen Green said...

"I quote myself when under stress; I quote myself when under stress" - almost King Crimson

Arthur Schenck said...

There’s not much point in being a blogger if one doesn’t quote oneself. In this case, I was actually quoting myself quoting myself, so the almost King Crimson is quite appropriate. And, of course, it’s overtly meta, even for me…