7/15/2025

On being … in touch with my inner scout

By Ingrid Sapona 

In June, I decided to tackle two projects I’ve put off for awhile: re-screening the balcony doors and making a slip cover for an ottoman. When I told a few folks about my plans, they expressed surprise I’d even try to do these things. I explained that I consider myself pretty handy and I thought I should at least try. 

Recently, when promised client work was delayed, I had time on my hands and pent-up energy. So, no excuse but to get on with the projects. By far the most pressing was the screens. A friend had helped me replace them years ago and my most vivid recollection was that the hardest part was taking the screen doors off. (Installing the screens themselves was pretty easy.) Of the half-dozen YouTube videos I watched about replacing screens, one featured someone doing it with the door still on its track. The video was a bit blurry and you couldn’t see the work up close, but the woman seemed satisfied with the end result. So, my plan was to install the new screens in situ

I removed one of the old screens and taped the new screen to the door and started. I quickly realized that without taking the door off, I couldn’t put enough pressure on the gasket (the spline) that keeps the screen in place. So, back to YouTube for tutorials on how to take off a screen door. With renewed confidence, I managed to loosen the rollers and got the first door off. An hour later I had replaced the screen and I was back outside to try to re-hang the door. It went on pretty easily. Yay! 

Figuring I was on a roll, I proceeded with the second door. A wiser person might have basked in the success of door one and left door two for another day. But not me. I removed the second screen then tried to get the door off. I couldn’t budge the thing. I suspect the uncooperative roller was rusted. Rather than risk tugging too hard on the frame and getting it out of whack (but not necessarily off), I gave up for the day. 

My condo has a superintendent. When I had a problem with my thermostat, for example, the property manager sent the super to look at it. He played around with it and fixed it. So, when I ran into the super the next day, I asked him if he had any experience with our type of screen doors. He didn’t, but he offered to come up later that day to see if he could help. 

As soon as I asked him, I wished I hadn’t. He’s nice but I worried he might manhandle it in a way that might make things worse. Irritated with myself, I decided to have another try. So, back out and up on the ladder I went. To my surprise, this time I got the door off. I was relieved that I didn’t need the super’s help (or brawn) after all. 

I brought the frame out in the hall (it’s easier to work on it there because there’s carpeting and lots of space) and I went back into my unit to get the screen and tools. When I came out, the superintendent was holding the door frame, pushing on the rollers. Next thing I knew, he had pulled one almost out. Worried, I blurted out, “Don’t take that out – it’s rusty, but I need it intact.” He muttered that he thought the roller was broken but he shoved it back in. I thanked him and assured him I’d be fine from there. After he left, I made swift work of the re-screening. Rather than press my luck any further that day, however, I brought the door back onto the balcony and left it until I could get a friend to help me re-hang it. 

When my friend came over, I explained exactly what needed to be done to push the delicate old rollers up and over the track to ease the door onto place. My theory was that with four hands it would either go on pretty easily, or not at all. Lucky for me, it went on easily. 

With still no word about when the client work would be sent, I proceeded with the slip cover. I’ve never made one before, but it seemed straightforward. I made a tissue paper template (well, pattern in sewing parlance), set up the sewing machine, and away I went. I was done in an afternoon. 

I’ve been thinking about why I don’t hesitate to try these projects. I think it must go back to earning scout badges. (I’m sure there was a sewing badge, though definitely none for screen repair.) As a kid, when I was earning the badges, I thought we were learning to do particular things. Now I realize that what we were really learning were skills and approaches that could be applied to all sorts of things. Those badges taught us to focus on a task, figure out what’s involved in accomplishing the task, and then have the courage to try. Indeed, every time I open my re-screened doors, or pass the ottoman, I feel the satisfaction I felt when I earned a badge… 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona 

6/30/2025

On being … your signature (fill in the blank)

By Ingrid Sapona 

The other day at the grocery store there was a huge display for Oreos. When I first saw it, I thought it must be for the new snack cake Oreos – Cakesters – that I remembered seeing a commercial for. On second look, however, I saw that it wasn’t for Cakesters, it was for “Selena Gomez Signature Oreos”! 

I found the whole idea of a signature Oreo so strange that I didn’t even stop to see what flavour it might be. (Apparently the center is chocolate and cinnamon.) I get that such products are about branding and marketing, but seeing the display, I couldn’t help wonder how such products actually come about. Do you think the celebrity’s business manager pitches the idea of having their client’s name on a cookie or does the cookie company come to the celeb’s manager and say we’d like to market a flavour in your client’s name? I’m not a huge Selena Gomez fan so I don’t know too much about her. For all I know, maybe she’s often talked about how much she loves Oreos – so maybe it’s totally natural for her to have a signature Oreo flavour. 

The Oreos reminded me of a current Tim Horton’s commercial for “Ryan’s Scrambled Eggs Loaded Breakfast Box”. The Ryan is Ryan Reynolds. The idea of Canadian born Reynolds being featured in a commercial for Tim Horton’s, an iconic Canadian brand, isn’t surprising. But the idea of calling it Ryan’s Breakfast Box (and therefore asking for it when ordering) seems odd to me. I mentioned this to friend and he thought the commercial was in keeping with Reynolds’ sense of humour. In it, Renolds’ personal assistant described the entrée as, “Two freshly cracked eggs expertly scrambled with crispy hash browns, sausage crumble, creamy chipotle sauce cooked over freshly harvested organic lava.” When I heard this, I just thought the “freshly harvested organic lava” part was ridiculous. My friend – more in tune with Reynolds’ comic persona – helped me see that I missed the tongue-in-cheekiness of it. Fair enough… 

Then, of course, there’s Cherry Garcia – the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream flavour that came out in 1987. Interestingly, it seems the flavour-branding idea was suggested to the company by a woman who was a fan of the Grateful Dead and the ice cream company. She suggested it because she thought it would be a hoot for Dead fans who buy all sorts of Dead paraphernalia. Thirty years after the death of Jerry Garcia and his namesake ice cream is still rocking it for Ben & Jerry’s – though I wonder if non-boomers even realize the connection. 

Twenty years later, Ben & Jerry introduced Stephen Colbert’s AmeriCone Dream. Based on what I’ve read, it seems the ice cream maker contacted Colbert’s agent asking whether Colbert would be interested in collaborating on a flavour. (Finally, a definitive answer to the question of whose idea was it!) Since the 2007 launch of the flavour, Colbert has donated all his proceeds from it to The Stephen Colbert AmeriCone Dream Fund, which supports various charities. So, not a purely money-making thing from Colbert’s perspective. 

I don’t know if I’d want a product named after me. Think of the Edsel, for example. The Ford Motor Company named a car – and a division that focused on mid-price range cars – after Henry Ford’s eldest son. Edsels were only around from 1958-1960. Seems the Ford family actually opposed the use of the name, but the company chairman made the decision. What a drag it would be if your (unusual) name ended up becoming synonymous with a flop. 

On the other hand, there’s Veuve Clicquot, which is named for Barbe Nicole Clicquot Ponsardin, who was François Clicquot’s widow (veuve, in French). Madame Clicquot, who was widowed at 27 and took over as the head of the champagne house founded by her father-in-law, revolutionized champagne making. Under the Napoleonic Code, Barbe Nicole Ponsardin was only allowed to run a business because she was widowed. So, to make it clear that she was, she named the company Veuve Clicquot-Ponsardin. Two hundred years later Veuve Clicquot is still synonymous with fine champagne. Who wouldn’t want their name associated with something that beloved. 

Since seeing those signature Oreos, I’ve been thinking about whether there’s any product I’d like my name associated with. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud to put my name on my columns and other things I’ve authored, but that’s because it’s my work. As for products, however, I can’t really think of any that I’d get a kick out of seeing my name on. (Though if I thought it would be a marketing hit and the proceeds could go to charity, well, you could probably twist my arm.)   

What about you? Any items you’d endorse or would be happy to sign your name to? 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

6/15/2025

On being ... a direction follower

By Ingrid Sapona 

Do you use Google Maps? Or maybe Waze? Or Apple Maps? If you do, how do you feel about it? I use Google Maps, but I’ve got kind of a love/hate relationship with it. 

Until about 18 months ago I rarely used a navigation app. One reason is that once, while using Waze, my phone started to heat up. I tried to exit the app but was unable to. Then I tried to turn the phone off, but I couldn’t do that either. I was pretty far out of the city and there were no cell stores to be found. Eventually I came upon a Staples store and I stopped to get help. 

I walked in feeling quite stupid but I asked the (as my father would have referred to him) young fellow if he could help because I was concerned my phone was getting quite warm. The first thing he did was try to turn the phone off. When he couldn’t do so, he suddenly seemed more sympathetic to my situation. He reconned the phone was overheated. (Gosh, is that why it was getting warm?) Then he went on-line to look for a solution. To my surprise, he suggested putting it in a frig for a few minutes to cool it down. Thankfully there was one in the staff lunch room. Cooling it that way worked and we were able to turn the phone off. But, I never used Waze again. 

So, for a long time, if I was going somewhere I had never been before, I preferred mapping things out on-line and printing the directions. Old school, I know, but it worked. Post-Covid, however, traffic has gotten so bad here in Toronto that most people I know rarely head anywhere without checking a navigation app. For me, Google Maps has become an indispensable planning tool because it estimates the travel time. Though it’s still annoying that a trip that used to take 25 minutes now takes way longer, if I check Google Maps before I leave, odds are better that I’ll leave myself enough time to get there. On the other hand, the app’s dynamic adjustments to traffic conditions can also add to my frustration. Nothing more irritating than being 15 minutes into a trip that Google initially estimated would take 1 hour and 10 minutes and en route it recalculates and tells me the destination is now 1 hour and 15 minutes away. Ugh…   

If I’m going someplace I know how to get to and I’m using Google for ETA information, I typically don’t pay attention to the directions she gives en route. (In case you’re wondering, yes, I’ve got a woman’s voice programmed on the app because I don’t like a man’s voice telling me what to do.) I keep the app on while I’m driving because sometimes, based on the conditions ahead, she suggests a faster alternative. But, unless the new route is lots faster, I usually just continue on the route I’d normally take to that destination. When I ignore her directions, I do feel like a disobedient student and I usually mutter a quiet “sorry”. But the more times she tells me to do a U-turn, the less apologetic I am as I tell her to adjust her routing. 

Not long ago I was going someplace I’ve been to a few times. Google Maps showed a couple different routes and none of them were that familiar to me, so I let her choose. She took me on a delightful route that meandered through some lovely side streets. It was such a nice drive, I made a mental note of the neighborhood, as it would be a lovely place to become more acquainted with. 

Indeed, the serendipity of discovering new streets and parts of town as a result of following Google Maps has happened a few times lately. Every time I’m surprised by such a discovery, I chide myself for not being more open to simply following Google’s suggestions. Besides, though we’ve all heard stories of drivers who blindly follow an app’s directions and then end up in a lake or worse, even if I let her guide me, it’s not like I’d ever stop paying attention to what’s actually up ahead. So, I guess what I’m saying is that I’m finally coming around to the realization that if I’m going to use such technology, I’ll get more enjoyment out of the experience by embracing it, rather than second guessing it. 

What about you? How good at following directions are you? 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

5/30/2025

On being ... whose stuff?

By Ingrid Sapona 

I feel pretty organized regarding my digital files and photos. But there is one digital realm that I hadn’t conquered: my music. I have two drawers full of music CDs that have remained largely un-played since my stereo CD player went belly up years go. Since that happened, the only way for me to listen to them is on the computer. Indeed, one of the reasons I bought the computer I have now is that I could get it with a CD player and Bang & Olufsen speakers. 

Over the years I converted a few of my music CDs to an iTunes-compatible format so that I could create some playlists. Most, however, remained unconverted. From time-to-time I toyed with the idea of trying to getting my stereo CD player repaired so that I could listen to them. But a few years ago, I gave up that idea and, since then, any new music I wanted I simply bought from the iTunes store. 

Some time ago Microsoft began sending out warnings about the fact that in October they’ll stop supporting Windows 10. The reminders kindly noted that I can switch to Windows 11 for free – so long as my computer meets the “minimum hardware requirements”. Of course, my computer doesn’t meet the requirements. (I don’t know anyone whose current computer does!) 

I didn’t find those notices of immediate concern because my computer’s working well. That said, however, I did have a chat with Sandy, my computer guru, about eventually getting something new – at which time I may end up switching systems. My main issue with getting a new computer is that I’ll lose the ability to play my CDs. 

As you can tell, the whole computer/CD player thing has been weighing on my mind. Finally, in anticipation of eventually getting rid of my current computer, last week I decided to begin the task of converting my music CDs. The first decision was whether to convert them all (there are over 150) or just those I like best. I decided to convert them all. Though it would be a time-consuming process, doing them all seemed more expedient than deciding whether I liked each one enough to convert it. 

The CDs in the top drawer were pretty well organized, grouped by artist, genre, and era. For example, pop bands like Chicago, America, the Eagles, Earth, Wind & Fire, and so on, were in one row. Another row had favourite male solo artists like James Taylor, Boz Scaggs, Todd Rundgren, Billy Joel, and Elton John, followed by more recent faves like Michael Bublé and John Mayer. Converting the CDs in that drawer brought fond memories of songs and artists that I love. Adding to my enjoyment was the prospect of creating a few new playlists once I converted all the CDs. 

I won’t lie – I was less than excited about going through the second drawer because it was kind of a mess. Other than the corner that had Christmas CDs, I had pretty much just used that drawer as a dumping ground for random CDs. For example, I knew I’d find in that drawer a meditation CD I bought long ago. Sure enough, there it was: “Journey Through the Chakras”. But where the heck did the two Classical Relaxation Meditation CDs come from? Was I that into meditation? Well, as it happens, those CDs aren’t about meditation at all – they’re just classical music selections that I guess are supposed to relax you. Then there were the CDs by artists whose names I don’t even recognize. What was even funnier was that some of them are signed, which means I probably saw these unknown artists in person somewhere. How could I have no recollection of that? 

I often find that going through closets and drawers I’ve ignored for awhile brings surprises. Sometimes it’s a pleasant trip down memory lane – a reminder of things that used to be of significance to me. But going through that second drawer of CDs I felt a different kind of surprise – one that left me wondering whether the stuff might belong to someone else. Talk about having too much stuff!  

Well, if you find you’re missing a harp CD – drop me a line – I bet I know where it is! 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

5/15/2025

On being ... helpful?

By Ingrid Sapona 

A few years ago, someone gave me a beautiful orchid for my birthday. Since then, it has bloomed a few times and each time it was a beautiful as when I received it. I have a particularly sunny living room, which seems to keep plants pretty happy.

It’s been over a year since it bloomed, however. On the plus side, there have been many new leaves and it’s sprouted lots of roots. (Some orchids grow on the side of trees – the term is epiphyte – so I wasn’t alarmed when the roots started growing outside the orchid’s pot.) Because the roots take up a lot of space around the plant, for awhile I had it in a corner. This caused the leaves to bend backward as they tried to get a bit more sun. 

So, in February I moved it to a sunnier spot and the leaves have started to straighten out. But even so, the plant lists heavily to one side and clearly has outgrown its pot. Unfortunately, in winter (in Toronto) there’s no orchid soil to be found. There were no orchid pots either (they need slits or holes for drainage and to ensure air gets to the roots). I figured I’d have to wait until garden centres reopen. Then, last week I found some orchid potting soil in the floral section of the supermarket. Yeah! 

Though I still didn’t have a new pot for it, the other day I went looking for a YouTube video about repotting orchids. I don’t know if you’ve ever searched YouTube for “how-to” videos but I have and every time I am astounded by how many there are. In the past I’ve looked for videos regarding leaking toilets, strange noises from inside walls, how to install an e-sim, and how to open a jammed computer disc drive. 

For things like issues with a toilet or faucet, I usually zero in on videos from sources I know and trust – like PBS’ This Old House. Mind you, I’m usually not watching them because I plan to do the fix myself – it’s more to get a sense of who I might need to hire to address the problem. (A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker? No – I need a plumber.) But for other topics – like orchid re-potting, choosing what video(s) to watch is trickier: who knows whether the person making the video knows what they’re talking about. In those situations, I figure you have to watch a few to even get a sense of whether their advice is worth anything. 

Another factor determining what YouTubes I watch is the length of the video. In the case of the orchid repotting, I kind of thought 10-12 minutes would cover it. Well, I ended up watching two that were about 20 minutes each. Quite by accident, the first one I watched featured a woman re-potting a plant that was like mine, with roots growing over the top of the pot. I found that video encouraging, though some steps – like sterilizing your shears before you start – did give me pause. 

The second video was by someone who sold orchid-growing supplies, but it wasn’t all about flogging products. It was, however, very detailed about orchid care, including brewing a tea and garlic concoction for pest control and a making banana-based mixture to use to water the re-potted plant. By the end of that video, I started having second thoughts. There seemed an awful lot to it. Maybe I should just be happy with the memory of the orchid’s beautiful blooms and ditch the poor plant. But, I’ve always had an aversion to tossing a plant that’s still alive. 

So, I scrounged a plastic pot and I cut slits into it, figuring I may as well try. I wouldn’t be making any of the concoctions the second video mentioned, but I did a few things he did. For example, I looked for root rot. When I didn’t find any, I decided I’d to continue, doing my best to follow the first video’s steps. So, I sprayed my scissors (and the new pot) with some hydrogen peroxide because a) I had some, and b) I figured I may as well try not to introduce any fungus in the process. 

Things were proceeding well until I opened my bag of soil and found it wasn’t all bark, which is what both videos called for. I guess the grocery store isn’t the best place for orchid soil. Ugh. I decided to make do, mixing the bark from the initial potting with the new soil. It’s only been a few days but so far, the orchid is still alive.

This whole thing got me thinking about how ubiquitous YouTube self-help videos have become. I know that some folks make money making such videos (social influencers or folks with products or services to sell) but there are far more folks who put them out with no expectation of remuneration. I don’t know, maybe it’s their few minutes of fame, or them wanting to share their do-it-yourself enthusiasm. Who knows… 

And of course, there’s the question of why there’s an audience for them. In my case, for example, I’ve re-potted plenty of plants before, so why did I go looking for such videos? Maybe I was feeling insecure or maybe they were a delaying tactic, or maybe it’s a bit of both. Did I find them helpful? Well, sort of – but if I’d have watch many more, I think I’d probably have decided it’s too fussy or that orchids are too exotic and I might have just given up the idea of keeping the plant. 

What about you? Do you ever watch how-two videos? Have you found them helpful? Have they encouraged you to try something, or have they ever turned you off from a project? Have you ever made one? Could you ever see yourself making one?? 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

4/30/2025

On being ... a time of change

 By Ingrid Sapona 

I aim for a title I hope gets readers thinking about what the column might be about before they read it. I wonder what came to your mind when you saw today’s title? 

Based on recent my conversations, it’s clear that we’re living through a time of significant change. Indeed, the topic was even mentioned in an e-newsletter I got from an organization I follow professionally. They were introducing a new method they’ve developed and, in explaining their rationale for it, they said, ‘during a time of change, what hasn’t changed is our members’ ambition’. Of course, they were referring to political change, which I’m often overwhelmed by these days. Given this feeling, I thought it might be helpful focus on a change that makes me happy: the change from winter to spring. 

I was talking to a friend about the weather last week. Though it was still unseasonably cool, we agreed about having seen the last of the snow, so spring is nigh. My friend added, however, that in her books it’s not spring until she sees her first red-breasted robin. (I didn’t tell her that I had already seen a few.) 

That got me thinking about the different markers of spring. For my mother, it was the bright yellow blooms of forsythia. We had a little forsythia bush at the corner of our house and every year, as soon as buds appeared on it, she’d snip off some branches and put them in a little vase. Then, as more and more yellow blooms appeared, her smile grew. And, if we were out somewhere and happened to see a bush in bloom, she pointed it out and commented about how beautiful it was. 

Growing up, I never really saw the beauty she saw in forsythia. Then, one year in my 20s, I happened to be in Stuttgart, her home town, in spring. There they use forsythia as hedges. So, in spring, around every bend in the road you’re greeted with a wall of yellow. It’s quite spectacular. After that, I understood why Mom looked forward to forsythia – it reminded her of spring in Stuttgart.

There are a number of things that signify spring to me. The very first thing I notice is the sound of birds chirping. I often open my balcony doors early in the morning and come March, it’s hard not to notice the nonstop chirping. I don’t know if the birds are scoping out mates, or revitalizing their nests, or just catching up after a long winter – but it’s really delightful to hear. And, as the birds swing into full throat, earthworms and snails begin shimmying across sidewalks. Dewy mornings always require a bit of extra care to avoid unwanted crunching under foot.

As for what I look forward to most in spring, the answer is simple: daffodils. Here, the first flowers to peak out are things like crocuses, snowdrops, and violets. It doesn’t seem to take much warmth for them to poke their little heads out – just a few frost-free days in a row. But those little guys are unreliable bellwethers because it’s not at all unusual to have snow after they’ve already popped. Daffs, on the other hand, hold back a bit before they show off. I love seeing their closed little arrowhead-like bundle shoot up. Then, when the time is right, they give a little graceful downward nod and open up, showing off their delicate, ruffly face. 


For some, spring has officially arrived when different flowering trees are in bloom. Here in Toronto, we have an abundance of cherry trees in High Park and a few other places. Torontonians keen for a selfie among the blossoms await updates regarding when they are expected to peak. (Mind you, I think such reports from the parks department are as much about crowd control as they are about celebrating the arrival of the blossoms.) I suppose if you grew up where magnolias or dogwoods thrive, those are spring shows you look forward to. 

For others, spring begins with certain rituals, like launching boats. The chores leading up to the physical launch – boat washing, waxing, bottom painting, etc. – don’t necessarily mean spring because most years it seems you’re doing them in winter coats. But once the boat is in the water – hello spring (and hurry up summer)! Opening up the cottage is another very Canadian sign of spring. I’ve not experienced it first hand but from what I hear, it involves a lot of schlepping and cleaning, but usually ends with a cookout and beer. Another sign of spring around here is pothole repair. Though the end result is welcome, random lane closures to facilitate it are not so pleasing. 

Given all the changes happening in the world, it may see silly to talk about getting joy from the emergence of spring. But, focusing on positive changes – even anodyne ones – helps me cope with the notion of change. I hope the changes spring brings to your life are all welcome. 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

4/15/2025

On being ... unhappy consequences

By Ingrid Sapona 

I thought I’d start with some facts: 

I have very hard water. 

My living room is south-west facing so I get sun all afternoon. 

I vacuum pretty much every other day because I shed a lot. 

Dusting is my least favourite chore. 

Years ago, I asked a woodworker what to use when I dust a piece of furniture I bought from him and he said just a damp (not dripping) cloth. Though I grew up in a Pledge® household, I figured he knew best, so that’s how I’ve been dusting since. 

I had some renovations done last fall. They were completed in mid-November. After the contractor left, I did a thorough clean of the place. 

Tariffs are a beautiful thing. (Haha… Just checking to see if you’re still with me. Or did you read the title of this column and think maybe that’s what I’m writing about? Well, I’m not. Or am I??? Anyway…) 

When it’s very dry I get shocks when I touch light switches and my hair stands on end when I take off a sweater. So, from late November to about the end of March I run a humidifier. The static magically disappears and my dry eyes and mouth are even a bit better. 

I bought a new humidifier last October because plastic bits on my old one were crumbling away. I liked my old one but every week I had to chip away at the calcium on the heating element. The amount of calcium build up was kind of unreal – proof of my hard water. 

The new humidifier lets me set the exact humidity I want. Unlike my old humidifier, the new one doesn’t give off warm steam – the vapour it produces is cool. So, no condensation on the bedroom windows. 

Before leaving for vacation in January, I turned the humidifier off and cleaned it well. I started it up as soon as I returned in February. 

One day in late February I retrieved something from the filing cabinet in the den. When my knee brushed against the cabinet, I noticed how dusty it was. I also noticed that the dust looked like fine, white, drywall dust. I silently chided myself for clearly not being that thorough in my cleaning after the renovation and then I got a damp cloth. This time I very carefully dusted between each cabinet handle and around the front, sides, and top.  

A couple days later I was sitting in my living room on a lovely sunny afternoon when I noticed an area on the floor round my t.v. that was VERY dusty. Yes, one of the consequences of having a lovely sunny room is that the sunshine highlights errant dust and hair. 

On closer inspection of the dust by the t.v. I noticed that it didn’t seem like regular dust. Ugh… another “spot” I missed cleaning after the reno. (I made a note to myself: Dust on sunny days so you can see all such spots.) After wiping the floor, I took a close-up look at the cocktail table. It too was covered in fine dust. What the heck? I knew I had dusted that dozens of times since the reno. 

I then went back into the den and looked at the filing cabinet again. Jeez, it was as dusty as it was two days earlier. Then I remembered a comment a friend who lives in my building said a year ago about fine white dust she has everywhere. She thought it was coming through her heating/AC unit. At that time, I told her my dust seemed like regular dust. Well, this new stuff must be what she was talking about. 

The following weeks I noticed a fine white coating on everything. Think I’m exaggerating? Here’s a photo of the inside of the cabinet under my kitchen sink. The inside! (Toward the left you can see the squiggle I made through the dust it with my finger.)


I started to wonder whether I should be concerned with what’s causing this different dust. Fairly quickly Google let me know that such dust isn’t unusual if you’re running an ultrasonic humidifier and you have hard water. Though I didn’t know it at the time, turns out my new humidifier is ultrasonic. 

Still finding it hard to believe the humidifier was the cause, I asked on the condo Facebook group whether anyone else had any fine, white dust. Half dozen folks quickly responded that they get it every fall as soon as they turn on their humidifier. A few of them even mentioned it’s because of our hard water. 

I’ve since learned of a few things that may help reduce the dust. Using filtered water – or better still – distilled water (a WAY too expensive solution, BTW). Decreasing the humidity level might also help. And there are demineralization cartridges I can add to the humidifier water tank. I bought a package of the cartridges and I’ll dial back the humidity level next year. We’ll see if they help. 

Because it was already late-March, I shut down the humidifier for the season. Then I cleaned the house. Thoroughly. 

I know that static, powdery white dust, and hard water are pretty minor problems. But still, the way various seemingly unrelated facts came together was a real-life (at home) example of something we often lose sight of (at our peril): solutions often come with trade-offs you don’t expect, much less like. 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

3/30/2025

On being ... desensitized

 By Ingrid Sapona 

The newspapers are full of articles and commentary about all the things going on in the U.S. that are so troubling. As a result, I’ve felt there’s little point in writing about any of it. After all, what could I possibly say that hasn’t been said? But for the past couple weeks one particular story – the deportation of 238 Venezuelans to El Salvador – has troubled me in a way that few commentators have focused on. As a result, I’ve been trying to come to terms with what it is about it that’s bothering me so. 

Briefly, the background. On March 15, 2025 the U.S. deported a bunch of people to El Salvador. The deportation was facilitated through an agreement under which the U.S. government is paying $6 million to El Salvador to take deportees. Much of the news related to this incident has focused on the terms of an order issued by a Federal District Court Judge that called for the U.S. to return the planes that had the deportees on them. Though that part of the story is important and has implications about obeying the rule of law, that’s not what I am writing about. Nor am I focused on the nature of the justifications and legal arguments the government has put forth to justify these deportations, though those issues are important (and troubling) in terms of constitutional questions around the right to due process. Those issues have received attention and hopefully will continue to be in the news. 

What I can’t get past about that episode is the lack of outrage expressed about the treatment of the people once deported. Shortly after the news broke, the El Salvadoran government released a video that was picked up by most news organization. And, according to a New York Times article, within three days it was viewed almost 39 million times on social media.  I found the treatment of the people in the video very disturbing. 

The video shows nameless, faceless, shackled detainees frog marched off the planes and onto buses (and ultimately into a “terrorist confinement center”) by jack booted, balaclava-wearing officials – likely police, military, or prison guards. (I’ll refer to them here as guards.) Two guards per detainee are seen grabbing the arms and necks of the unarmed detainees, forcing them to walk/run in a crouched position toward the holding cell. The show of force was overwhelming. 

As I watched the video I was struck by the appearance of the guards as they were handling the detainees. They were wearing helmets with headphones, arm and shin guards, and Kevlar-looking vests. They were flanked on both sides by lines of guards standing shoulder-to-shoulder in black riot gear, complete with shields and batons. The detainees, whose heads had been shaven, were shackled at the wrist and ankles. Though they looked like it, the guards were not characters out of a Star Wars movie. This was not some cosplay convention. The detainees were real people who the U.S. picked up and sent to this notorious place. (The El Salvadoran government released a video in 2023 showing off of this detention centre and the hard-line treatment of those held there.)

As it happens, the day before I first saw the video from El Salvador I watched the 2023 film Lee, a biopic about photojournalist Lee Miller, an American WWII photographer. Her black and white images of the Nazi atrocities at Buchenwald and Dachau shocked people and drove home to the world what had happened. The movie is a reminder of the power of the visual – something the El Salvadoran government clearly appreciated when it released the propaganda video of the detainees. 

So, I figured surely in a day or two – as more folks saw the video of the deportees, there would be a hue and cry of people expressing shock and outrage. But very little has been said about it the treatment – or fate – of these people. (Well, the president of El Salvador has said that the deportees “would be held for a least a year and made to perform labor and attend workshops under a program called “Zero Idleness.”  That phrase has an interesting ring to it, doesn’t it? Maybe that’s the inscription over the doorway of the prison.) Imagine how these people were – and are – treated when the cameras are not rolling. Does no one think that could be me or my child or friend who was picked up and sent to some faraway gulag? 

I can’t understand it why this story hasn’t sparked outrage and protest. I get that there’s so much going on that people are feeling overwhelmed and that it feels like there’s an inevitability to much of it. But we must guard against becoming desensitized to violence and mistreatment of people and we must speak out against such treatment. Seems to me that failure to speak up makes one complicit in such actions and – ultimately – puts us all at risk. 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona