I was having a Martha Stewart moment. A large windowless outside wall on the front of our house was the perfect setting for a cottage window framed with country shutters and a flower box.
My wife had recently redone the front bathroom and had me replace the old door mirror with a new one more to her taste. Being I throw away nothing, I found I now had two of the old Kmart door mirrors in my garage, one was cracked, but still too good to toss, both perfect items for my project.
Each mirror was 2 feet wide and 4 feet tall, so mounted side by side or one above the other would equal a 4X4 foot square faux window.
My neighbor from across the street, Corky, sees me gathering my supplies and knows I have some venture to tell him about. I explain how I am going to hang the mirrors, one above the other and frame them to look like a window, creating panes from the slats of leftover door moldings and lattice to create shutters.
Corky looks at the wall, the pile, the mirrors, my tools and me, says he still doesn’t see how I could make a window like that, and walks back over to his house leaving me to my task.
All went as planned, except the mirror that wasn’t cracked, became so during the process, and the mirror that was cracked, cracked again in a new place once the sun came out and heated it up.
The process went well and the flower box was the finishing touch. Covered with painted butterflies, caterpillars, bees, flowers and other critters, it had a nice homey look. I picked up some plastic frogs, butterflies and birds from the dollar store and some real flowers to complete my new window. The cracks added character, altered the reflection and actually looked like a real window from the street.
Corky came back by later as I was in the front yard admiring my work.
“Carl, that really looks good!”
“Thanks. I’m pleased with the results. So you like it?”
“I sure do. I bet it lets a lot more light into your bedroom.”
“It’s a mirror.”
“Oh, now I get it. It’s one of those mirrors you can look out of, but not into, right?”
“Right, see ya later, Corky, through my window.”
It does look like a real window, especially from the angle looking up from down on the street with the trees and sky reflecting back, but he saw the two mirrors before I even put them up and he still thinks it’s a real window. That led me to name my window.
An old German fairytale involving a pair of young lovers wanting to elope against her father’s wishes, made plans to leave that night. The lad would climb a ladder, tap upon her window and the lass would come with him to live happily ever after. He did climb the ladder and did tap on the window, but alas, it was her father’s window.
He was at the wrong window, im der falsche fenster. The false window.
So now my window has a name, Falschen Fenster. Come by and see it sometime. It does look real, but my bedroom remains quite dark.
About the Author: Carl Palmer
Carl “Papa” Palmer of Old Mill Road in Ridgeway, Virginia, lives in University Place, Washington. He is retired from the military and Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) enjoying life as “Papa” to his grand descendants and being a Franciscan Hospice volunteer.
Carl is a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and Micro Award nominee. MOTTO: Long Weekends Forever!