Whatever, Whore Window

I've had a love/hate relationship with a particular window in our home since before even purchasing the place.
But I've never been lost for words to describe the peculiar thing, though.
It's stupid.
It'd been obscured by the previous owner's bed when we saw the house on a hunt back in '09, but you could tell by looking at it from the outside it wasn't quite right.
After moving in, it quickly became apparent the thing was all sorts of wrong.
Per usual, the materials used were less than cheap, construction questionable and whoever designed, installed and thought the whole monstrosity was worthwhile, was clearly drunk.
Or someone's nephew had persuaded them that this shop project for their vocational school credit was a good idea.
And also, drunk.
Certainly unique, we always referred to it as the 'Whore Window' since it reminded us of our trips through the Red Light District in Amsterdam.
In fact, an amusing activity at social events was posing luridly for photographs.
But the inside funny eventually got old and the fact remained that it was ugly, useless, decrepit and ultimately a dangerous energy suck.
CAM had already "repaired" one of the single-paned windows with hot glue and while taking the weatherizing plastic down after the winter season, the middle one cracked worse than my spine after sitting in front of Facebook too long.
Time to call in the pros.
We'd contracted a local company to replace the majority of the original, shitty windows shortly after moving in with our government rebate; it was very win-win.
And now, finally, it was time to say goodbye to this eyesore, so we gave Discount Windows another call.
They've grown a great deal in a few years- even broadcasting (bad) commercials. And the poor receptionist clearly needed at least one assistant as she wasn't picking up the phone nor returning voice mails.
After yet another frustrating attempt, the owner just happened to answer, which resulted in the quick service of sending a rep out for an estimate.
Trying to avoid humiliation for the damn thing, I wasted no time denying culpability.
I know that dude's seen a lot in his career, but even he admitted this was a first.
And also agreed it need to go.
"We call it the "Whore Window"; I'm not sure if you're familiar with the Netherl..."
"I'm Dutch. My family has a flat in Amsterdam. I know exactly what you're talking about."
Well then, small world. Pretty funny.
"So can you have that done by the Oregon Country Fair?"
"That's in less than 2 weeks? Not likely, we're booked up. You're looking at late August at the  earliest."
"Oh."
 French doors were what I'd really wanted, they were pretty and dramatic and based on my earlier research at Jerry's, cheaper.
But not so. Danny talked us into a slider and we'd save some dough by disassembling it ourselves, plus CAM could repurpose the materials for random projects around the place making us really look well integrated into this craphole neighborhood.
The rest of summer was unbearably hot.
There was a weeks long ban on lawn mowing, logging, road maintenance, and other activities that might spark a forest fire- a terrifying reality, so we were in no hurry at that point to get it done as our big party weekend would have come and gone.
Eventually, I'd had enough of its mocking sneer, so I made the call.
By now the extra help had arrived and a very competent appointment setter made arrangements to have the 2-man crew come out early one Monday morning (that got moved up a few weeks earlier, even.)
So on a cool, wet Sunday not too long ago, CAM began the process of creating a huge hole in our bedroom.
Surprisingly (or not) the whole ensemble came down quickly and without too much effort.
Covered by a plastic sheet,

Minnie Pie even dropped by to check on things