I hear you on the ventilation—after tightening up my 1920s place, I noticed condensation on the old windows in winter. HRV sounds like a solid fix. Did you have to retrofit ductwork, or was it a pretty simple install?
Retrofitting an HRV into an older house can be a bit of a puzzle, honestly. In my case, I ended up running some new ductwork, but I tried to keep it as minimal as possible—mostly just to the main living spaces and bedrooms. The installer managed to tuck most of it into closets and soffits, so it’s not too intrusive. If your place still has the original plaster walls, you might want to brace yourself for a little mess during install.
I did notice a big difference in condensation once the system was up and running. The old windows still fog up a bit on really cold mornings, but nothing like before. Out of curiosity, did you have to do anything special with your windows after tightening things up? I’ve been debating whether it’s worth restoring mine or just biting the bullet and replacing them...
WINDOWS: REPAIR VS REPLACE AFTER HRV INSTALL
- Had the same debate after my HRV install. My house is from the 1940s, so the windows are... let’s call them “vintage” (aka drafty as heck).
- Here’s what I found:
- Restoring is great if you’re attached to the look or have historic regs. I did some reglazing and added weatherstripping. Helped, but honestly, the old wood still leaks a bit.
- Replacement windows are a bigger upfront cost, but you get way better insulation and less condensation. I replaced just the worst ones first—kind of a hybrid approach.
- If you go full replacement, watch out for cheap vinyl units. They can warp over time, especially if your house shifts at all (which, after earthquake-proofing, maybe less of an issue?).
- One weird thing: after sealing everything up with the HRV, I noticed the window condensation moved to spots I never expected—like on the inside of exterior walls. Guess that’s what happens when you change airflow patterns.
- If you’re handy, restoring isn’t too bad (just messy and time-consuming). If you hate scraping paint and dealing with ancient sash cords, replacements might save your sanity.
Honestly, I’d say do a couple as a test run and see how it feels. Sometimes the old stuff surprises you... sometimes it just falls apart in your hands.
I get the appeal of replacements, but I’ve gotta push back a bit on the idea that old wood windows are always leaky, even after restoration. Have you tried adding interior storm panels? I did that on my 1928 place and it made a huge difference—plus, you keep all the original charm.
“Restoring is great if you’re attached to the look or have historic regs. I did some reglazing and added weatherstripping. Helped, but honestly, the old wood still leaks a bit.”
I wonder if it’s more about how much time you want to put in vs. what’s actually possible with the old windows. Sometimes they just need a little more TLC than we expect... but when they’re tight, they can be surprisingly efficient. Anyone else notice that?
EARTHQUAKE-PROOFED MY FIRST BUILDING AND IT ACTUALLY WORKED
Honestly, I’m right there with you on the “how much time do you want to spend” factor. I used to think old windows were a lost cause, too, but I got stubborn (and cheap) and figured I’d at least try before shelling out for new ones. Here’s the thing—sometimes you’ve just got to go down the rabbit hole of old-window TLC. It’s like a gym membership for your patience.
“Restoring is great if you’re attached to the look or have historic regs. I did some reglazing and added weatherstripping. Helped, but honestly, the old wood still leaks a bit.”
Been there. After a winter of feeling like I was living in a drafty barn, I tried the whole “interior storm panel” trick (DIY style, because, well, budget). Plexiglass, magnetic tape, and a couple of YouTube videos later, I swear my heating bill dropped. Not to zero, but enough that I could justify splurging on fancy coffee instead of insulation.
It’s wild how much difference the little stuff makes—tighten up the sash locks, add some rope caulk for the worst gaps, and suddenly those 100-year-old windows are holding their own. Not perfect, but weirdly satisfying. I even started bragging to my neighbor about my “vintage thermal engineering.” She was not impressed, but my wallet was.
Honestly, I think you nailed it with the TLC comment. Some of these old windows just need a bit more attention than we bargain for. But once you get them dialed in, they’re surprisingly solid. Plus, you get to keep the wavy glass and all that old-house character. Just takes a little sweat equity (and maybe some creative language when you drop a sash on your thumb).
If nothing else, you’ll have a good story the next time someone tries to sell you replacement windows for the price of a used car.
