I can see clearly now

"He put in a window today."

The words appeared in the middle of a muddle of mundane accomplishments--mulching the berry patch, mowing the meadow, and by the way, he put in a window today--but to me they sounded like magic.

"He" is our new contractor, who replaces our old contractor, who became our old contractor due to circumstances which will form the centerpiece of impending legal action involving, among other things, the lengthy non-appearance of windows. Since last July windows have frequently been promised "soon" or "next week" or "first thing in the morning," but until today no windows ever appeared, and indeed for the past six months our old contractor has neither appeared nor responded to our phone calls to explain the lack of windows, which lack has allowed a variety of woodland creatures to inhabit a structure not intended for their use.

It was a relief, really, to dump the old contractor and hire a new one, but even the new contractor led us to believe that he wouldn't have much time to devote to the project for another month or two. Instead, he put in a window today. Just one out of several, but he expects to put in the second set tomorrow, a lovely big picture window with a sash window on each side. The windows look out on nothing but woods and sky and meadow but they offer the promise that one day the room will be finished, a year later than expected and way over budget. At last we can see an end to the project and the beginning of a new stage of life that will include windows, storage space, a guest room, and, finally, a garage.

He put in a window today, and through it I can see the future.