After we nearly cooked ourselves last weekend I whined enough to my dad and he came to the rescue today. The animals that have lived in our house before us had layered approximately eighty-four thousand buckets of paint on the window panes--sealing the damn things shut. My dad has said a million times that you "just use a pizza cutter and ZIP they are open!"
It was a little more complicated than that.
But, to give him credit, with a paint scraper, a hammer and pry bar he did get both windows in our bedroom and two in the dining room open. The big giant one in the living room defeated him, though he chipped enough paint off the sides to make it look like shit. I am suitably grateful though--I would rather touch up paint then suffocate with the hot air.
Of course it is only seventy degrees out and we shut them immediately.
I am now nursing a migraine from a lot of dust and paint (probably leaded). But still totally small price to pay.
My dad is the home improvement super hero.