A Broken Window Is Always a Pane

The only thing more annoying than finding out yesterday that someone or something broke a hole in my kitchen window was the fact that not one of my neighbors stepped up to take responsibility for it. No “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it; please let me know how much it costs to fix it.” Not even a “that sucks.”

It is as if the baseball-sized hole in my window came about through an act of nature -- one that was committed by, say, an angry squirrel or a rampaging acorn -- rather than through human error -- which seems unlikely -- and that it is essentially just my problem now and not that of the person or persons who broke it.

Almost as annoying as that is the run-around I have been getting from a glazier a friend recommended. I get that repairmen have busy schedules and that on weekends, people who repair windows have especially busy schedules. But it seems like it is taking forever simply to get the guy to come out and give me an estimate.

In the meantime, a friend's spouse is recovering from an operation he underwent to remove an aneurysm so I keep telling myself I could have worse problems.