I’ll be the first to admit that, as a baby REALTOR®, I’m sure I suggested window replacement to clients when showing an old house with old windows, because I truly thought that was the best way to optimize energy efficiency in a home. And of course, it’s easy to tout the benefit of new windows in terms of monthly cost savings. But when you break it down, it doesn’t actually add up.

I became Old Home Certified® a few years ago, through Rethos (then called Preservation Alliance of Minnesota), a local preservation group. I suppose I had a sense that old windows could be refurbished, but I thought the process would be difficult and involved. It wasn’t until this summer, when a boxelder bug-provoked window breakage mishap started me thinking about doing this myself, both to achieve a sense of personal glory (obviously) and to save the expense of hiring a handyperson

Even better than youtube videos, Rethos regularly offers a half-day, in-person workshop. The one I attended was held inside an actual home, with actual windows that needed reglazing. The instructors were both highly experienced and knowledgeable, the workshop was hands-on, and it was a morning of discovery for all of us, since the whole process happened unrehearsed (they didn’t know how easy/difficult it would be to do the repair), in situ. Two thumbs up from this experiential learner.

So how do you do it? The process is fairly simple once you know a few things. The first is that the stops, the part of the frame that holds the window in place, are removable. Yep, you can pry those wood pieces out (there may be screws, and you may first need to score it, if the frame has been painted), and then the frame can just be... removed. [Insert mind-blown emoji here.] From there, you remove the window, and detach the ropes (which attach it to the counterweights hidden on the side) by removing any nails holding the knot in place on the side of the window and unseating the knot, and possibly cutting the rope, if you intend to replace it.

You’ll want to be careful when you remove the glass, by taping one side with painter’s, or masking tape. Since the glass in my window was already broken, I used tape to secure the shards in place, shattered it more, then carefully removed it all and placed the glass inside a paper bag to throw it all away. I slid a key inside the slot to ensure I’d removed all the glass shards.

From here, you’ll take one of two routes.

1. Replace the glass, glaze and paint the window yourself; or,

2. Bring it to your local hardware spot and have them do it for you.

The first option makes more sense if you’re planning to do multiple windows and want to invest in the tools and materials to DIY. The glass itself can generally be purchased from a hardware store. In the workshop, we had a chance to try glazing and it wasn’t terribly complicated. My bigger concern, I think, would be working with a bare pane of glass, and securing it into the window using glazier's steel push points, then working with the window glaze (both of which require using a bit of force or pressure), and finally painting it to seal it—that’s a lot of putzing with glass as your canvas.

My choice… Around $50 and a month-long turnaround time and not having to worry about breaking glass and how long it would actually take me to finish the job? Yep, definitely a better choice for me.

Regardless of your own beliefs about the afterlife and what may exist in the ether or ever after, the idea of a previous death in a home can be cause for concern for many when buying. The snag, however, is that a seller doesn’t always need to disclose this type of information. While there are several spook-tastic facts a seller must share (if a murder has taken place on the property, for instance, or if methamphetamine production has occurred there), other info can be kept under wraps. 

According to Minnesota statute, sellers of Minnesota real estate do not need to disclose if the property:

1. is or was occupied by an owner or occupant who is or was suspected to be infected with human immunodeficiency virus or diagnosed with acquired immunodeficiency syndrome;

2. was the site of a suicide, accidental death, natural death, or perceived paranormal activity; or

3. is located in a neighborhood containing any adult family home, community-based residential facility, or nursing home.

But just because the seller isn’t required to disclose a haunting, doesn’t mean that they keep it to themselves. Here are a few past listings on the MLS where the sellers or the listing agent felt obliged to share the spooky deets (and one house that is definitely not haunted):

*Seller must provide the buyer notice containing information about the state predatory offender registry. For more information about the registry, visit the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension Department’s FAQ.

And this is nowhere more prevalent than in anything horror, or spooky, or ghost related. Not surprisingly, as a preservationist and working in real estate, these tend to be my favorite seasonal (and sometimes not-so-seasonal) reads. With the physical space being so integral to the story, it’s often the house or the structure that sticks with me.

Over the years, a friend and I have collected myriad ghosty books. It started with  “Grave's End: A True Ghost Story,” and we’ve added many, many more to the stash ever since. Sometime in September, the itch sets in, and we start reading, keeping each other informed about our current selection—fiction, or those recorded as first-person experiences.

Without further ado, here are my favorites*: 

“The Little Stranger,” Sarah Waters

I found this book at a church rummage sale several years ago, and I have read, or listened to it at least 10 times since then. Something about it draws me in every year. This gothic novel details the final hurrah of what remains of an aristocratic family, post-WWII, living in a once-grand manor house they no longer have the financial means to care for. There’s social commentary, a tinch of love story plus a generally spooky vibe… And all of this set in the English countryside, to boot? It’s a little like Downton Abbey meets Poltergeist.

(And please don’t judge the book by the movie. You know the book is always better than the movie.)

“Grave's End: A True Ghost Story,” Elaine Mercado

A common lived experience in ghosty tales is that of buying or moving into a new home, where the new owners have stretched themselves in some way. Often times, it’s a house that needs a lot of repairs or renovations, but happens to be within the buyer’s limited price range. Such is the case with the Brooklyn home of the Mercado family, who purchased Grave’s End after searching for over a year (gasp!) when they went to look at “what was apparently the last affordable house in Brooklyn, New York.” What follows is 13 years of unexplained noises, weird smells, disembodied voices, suffocating dreams, and so much more. Can you say PORTAL? Yeah, you get the idea.

“Rebecca,” Daphne du Maurier

Is there any more iconic opening narration than, “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again”?

This novel is a pretty obvious addition to any list of this type, I’d say. I sought out the book after learning that the movie—Hitchcock’s first American project, in 1940—was based on a novel written by a talented and prolific female author, and I was not disappointed. To this day, both the book and the (ahem) original film are in my regular rotation. Not familiar? It’s a rags-to-riches, wherein the nameless main character meets the dashing Maxim de Winter during a winter visit to Monte Carlo. Far from being swept off her feet, she nonetheless becomes the new mistress of the aforementioned estate on the imposing Cornwall coast. Similar to “The Little Stranger,” the manor house Manderley (which was based on real-life Menabilly, du Maurier’s beloved home of 25 years), is a “lonely house,” that is, a lone structure, situated in an isolated and desolate area, which creates an ambiance all its own.

“The Amityville Horror,” Jay Anson

Ok, ok. The story of what happened to the Lutz family over 28 days in December 1975 has been disproven… time and… time again; still, the combo of this entertaining story plus the GLORIOUSLY cheesy 1979 movie is enough for me to revisit the Long Island Dutch Colonial at 112 Ocean Avenue every so often. I mean, freaked out nuns and priests, spooky pigs, and Margot Kidder practicing ballet in a gold-vein bedroom wall mirror? Yes, please. (Well, this last part isn’t in the book but you can imagine it already, can’t you.)

“Winfield: Living in the Shadow of the Woolworths,” Monica Randall

Turns out I’m bookending this post with my true favorites, one fiction, and one fact. “Winfield” is part historical documentation, part memoir—for this reason alone, the book is worth your time.

Author Monica Randall grew up on the Gold Coast of Long Island at the moment in time when the Great Gatsby-era homes were starting not only to fall into disrepair, but had also begun falling to the wrecking ball. Randall’s teenage adventures of “saving artifacts” from the old houses rolls seamlessly into her adult obsession with Woolworth properties. Later, a whirlwind romance and subsequent engagement culminated in her living in Winfield, uncovering its mysteries, including Woolworth's Napoleon obsession, his interest in the Egyptian occult, and the rumored causes of the fire that burned the first Winfield estate to the ground in the early 1900s.

Read any of these, or have others to share? I’d love to hear your faves. I have lots more, if you’d like to be added to our spooky-season book club!

*Disclaimer: Just because they are my favorites does not mean that I endorse them as particularly good writing. Some are well written and others are not; all are as enjoyable as a PSL on cool and colorful Autumn day.