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

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