Windows to the Soul

Yeah, we know. It's been a while. The thing is, we had a break from the blog in order to get a lot done on the house.  Now, consequently, we have plenty to write about. Let's start with the windows.

Here's where we are in the blog narrative: we have a house with great gaping holes in it. When it rains our interior looks like this:

More of a swimming pool than a dining room

When we describe our blog to interested persons, they often say to us, "so it's a how-to blog?" We're quick to correct them--this blog is more of a how-not-to.  Here's how not to do windows:

Do not cut window holes in your cladding before you've learned to install windows. 

Do not make the window holes in your cladding too large for the custom windows you have ordered, for you will have weathertightness issues.

Do not trust the professional who measured up your windows to inform you that you've made this grave error. 

With that in mind, here's how we corrected our window mishaps. The first step was to admit to ourselves that we had no idea how to install windows and that we needed help. We enlisted a professional builder to coach us and work alongside us so that we could eventually install a window or two ourselves. Here are some photos of that process.

Preparing a head flashing. This is installed above the window but behind the cladding to divert water away from the house-hole.

Attaching bitumen tape around the window corners--helps to weather-proof the window's weak points.

Steff framed in the unfinished window. Beware the tape's blinding reflective powers.

We originally built the framing for the following window around an old timber-framed leadlight jobbie. Its frame was wonky at best, so we ended up discarding it; this meant that we had to square up our framing so that the new custom window would fit. 

 

Steff secures some side-flashings (to cover up the oversized
cladding holes we mistakenly cut before window installation. Whoops).

Window installed and framing de-wonkified.

The side-flashings were tucked under the exterior window lip on bottom and sides and nailed in place.
They will eventually be covered by battens, in theory.

We had more framing changes at this point. We raised the window to accommodate a roof flashing. This flashing would be tucked under the window and would prevent splashback from driving rain on our low-angled roof. Regrettably, we can't specify the type of flashing as we've forgotten its name. We do know that it is not called a 'skirt flashing', or at least, we now know that's a phrase that shouldn't be Googled.

Yes, that's ice on the roof. Dry winter days made for frosty nights (but also maximum productivity on the house-building front!)

Back inside, we're poking styrofoam backing rod in the gaps between the window and the framing.
This stops our expanding foam from squirting through the gap and out to the exterior cladding.

Backing rod installation party

This is what we mean by expanding foam. It was chaos, and we were applying it without finesse. The foam came out at one speed only, and that speed was uncontrollably fast. There was much surprised whooping, and it was eventually tracked throughout the house. We started out trying in earnest to clear up our colossal mess, but ended up sculpting phalluses out of the foam instead.

More expanding foam glamour shots. After the foam has hardened, we cut it off flush
with a razor knife. Ignore the insulation; we'll get to that later.

Next up: we put a roof on this puppy!

The Quest Quotient by Nancy Howie and Steff Werman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at thequestquotient2011.blogspot.com.