Author: Keith Javia

Fun with Water Fowl

I’ve shared pictures of the view from my apartment windows. Sunsets, clouds, the pond, all new and exciting. Recently, I’ve been blessed with sounds and views of what I consider special birds visiting the pond outside my windows.

Within the last two weeks I have spied the following:

Some of these have been easy to see while others I identified by sound, and later spied, with the aid of the Merlin app by CornellLab, from the Ornithology Department of Cornell University, on my phone. It’s a great tool with amazing “hearing” to identify bird species by listening to their various calls. It also allows one to identify by description, and save documentation of where and when the birds are identified. It is available at The Apple Store and Google Play. I highly recommend it.

I heard a new sound while on my balcony about a week ago and thought I eyed a couple familiar birds. I quickly pulled out the Merlin app to listen and confirm what I thought I knew. There were two Belted King Fishers flitting among the branches of the big dead tree. They seemed to be playing games, taking off and returning to different branches. What fun!

September first I thought I saw more Double-crested Cormorants, but they did not sound the same. Again, Merlin confirmed by sound what I thought I saw through my scope. A pair of Green Herons were in the same tree. This is in deed a popular perch for many different bird species.

I was able to get some pics of two of the larger birds listed above, the Great Blue Heron and the American While Pelican. I have at least mentioned both of these huge birds in prior posts. This week I want to share the view from my balcony and/or windows.

First, and most often seen, is the Great Blue Heron. These beauties never cease to amaze me, whether taking off, in flight, or landing. Their majesty enthralls me as they stand motionless near the water’s shore or slowly walk, stalking their prey of small fish and frogs. Here is a shot taken on September 3rd.

This guy has graced the pond many times, sometimes swooping into a dead tree just as dark descends. Other times I find him perching, neck tucked (as in this photo) or extended, in the morning as it hunts for its breakfast. Last week it was accompanied by two younger versions tentatively entering the water, appearing to mimic their parent.

Tuesday of this week (09/17/2024) I opened the shade just as I got out of bed, to find this beauty slowly wading along the shoreline, gobbling who knows what along the way. He made a couple tours around the pond, providing ample opportunity to see one of my favorite birds acting natural in ways I’ve never witnessed before.

  • Huge bird. Huge Wingspan.
  • The attack!
  • The capture.
  • Looks satisfied, doesn’t it?!

My former home was across the street from a pond. There were many water fowl there, the most exciting being an Osprey. Now I live in a place actually overlooking a more natural, mature pond. There are Osprey here too. But I had little expectation that I would be so entertained by the variety of birds I get to witness on a daily basis. All this in addition to turtles, ducks, and surfacing fish! I await what Autumn and Winter wonders I will see!

Buns Hold the Cold!

This phrase came up in conversation this week relating to how parts of our bodies seem to retain the cold (I’m not so sure about heat) when exposed, even through our winter clothing. It struck me as so funny that I had to put it to rhyme.

Took a walk one frosty morning
The sky was clear
The air was cold
Came in side, took off my clothing
And I noticed a little chill
That's when I knew -

     Buns hold the cold
     Buns hold the cold
     Whether riding down the highway
     Or sitting on the commode
     You know you're going to feel it
     'cause your buns hold the cold

When I get up in the morning
And the blankets are a mess
As I walk toward the closet
Where I know I'm going to dress
I take off my tightie whities
And I put my skivvies on
That's when I notice - 

     Buns hold the cold
     Buns hold the cold
     Whether riding down the highway
     Or sitting on the commode
     You know you're going to feel it
     'cause your buns hold the cold

So, if you're feeling a little warmish
And you think you might be sick
Your forehead feels a bit feverish
And your mouth is feeling thick
Just slide your hands behind you
And grab some posterior beef
You'll get some cool relief, 'cause -

     Buns hold the cold
     Buns hold the cold
     Whether riding down the highway
     Or sitting on the commode
     You know you're going to feel it
     'cause your buns hold the cold

© Unpublished 2024 Keith Javia

I am the messenger. Just shoot me!

Vim and Vinegar

Fun With Words

Several days ago someone described my demeanor as full of vim and vinegar. Of course I laughed, knowing that the “real” saying is “vim and vigo(u)r“, meaning full of enthusiasm and energy. As you will see by clicking the link above, vim and vinegar is a malapropism. “Malapropism is when a word or phrase is used by mistake in place of a similar sounding word or phrase.”

This I found while researching the difference between “vim and vinegar”, and “vim and vigor.” In fact, “vim and vinegar” is actually the blending of two different sayings, the other being “piss and vinegar“, or “spit and vinegar” if you prefer to be less crude in your language (having fun with words yet?). Of course, looking at the various definitions, it is clear that there is little distinction between all three iterations. Thus minimizing the validity of the malapropism attribute.

Whew! I sure am glad to have finally found some way to explain what was a laughable moment!

I’d like to expand upon the concept of “Fun With Words.” I have a lot of fun with words as I write this blog. Drafting a message, changing descriptive words to tweak the meaning to fit as closely as I can the thoughts and feelings I wish to convey. All enjoyable to me. I like word games. I also like number games. Let me expand on this.

My siblings and I have been Zoom meeting on Sundays for almost three years, beginning in the midst of COVID when travel was curtailed. It began as an alternative way to visit our aging Mother without the travel. It has become an amazing bonding experience during which we share our experiences and views on such topics as food, music, shows and movies, and politics. Our 99+ year old Mother still sits in to listen to our support and banter of each other.

As time passed, several sibs began discussing Wordle, a daily puzzle published by the New York Times in which one has to find a five-letter word in six guesses or less. I know some of you know and love it. I resisted for a long time but have now played nearly 200 days of the puzzle and enjoy trying to think like the authors. I use the same beginning word every day in hopes of finding which letters are included and which are in the right place in the secret word.

I downloaded the Wordle app, though I did not subscribe to the Times nor the games. What I found were several other enjoyable and challenging word, number, and matching games that I play on a nearly daily basis. Spelling Bee and Strands accompany Wordle as challenging word games. I’ve always enjoyed Sudokus. Times Games offers three challenge levels if you share my proclivity. I recently added “Tiles” to my daily games routine, challenging my visual matching skills. I recommend them all.

Having completed my move to central Iowa, I am left only with the arranging and rearranging of “stuff” in my apartment to work on over time. I think my vim and vigor stem from left over energy and the excitement of new experiences in a new place, meeting new people and connecting with family. I hope I can maintain my vitality for many years to come, and continue to enjoy, and have fun with words.

Open and Closed

And Reversing the Order

Yesterday I woke to the warm and wonderful surroundings of my new fourth-floor apartment. I just had to “pick up my guitar and play.” Anticipation welled up inside at the realization that this was the closing date for my house in eastern Iowa.

Less than ten weeks ago I met with my friend and Realtor(r), Terri, to determine if making a move closer to my son and his family was feasible. My life has since been a whirlwind of hard work and change as I transitioned from life at one pond to another. From one city to another. From one past life to a new life, meeting new and old friends and becoming an integral part in the life of my son and his family. I could not have imagined that my decision would positively impact my life in so many ways.

I was sad to leave my friends and neighbors Jason, China, and Adalynn who have adopted me as if an uncle. I have both supported and been supported by Steve and Kim through fire and flood, and shared joys and sorrows as we learned about each other’s pasts. Good neighbors are great gifts!

I heard the news that all had gone well with the closing as I was attending a luncheon in what has become a fairly busy social calendar. The evening was capped off with a visit from my son and his partner to celebrate with a glass of champagne. I reiterated, “I live here now.”

But I was also aware of latent emotion lingering beneath the joyful surface. It’s a sadness for the loss that necessitated change and new beginnings. A sadness for the loss of the one I loved so deeply and the loss of what we had together. Of course, it could not help but surface.

What contradictions we endure in our lives. Such conflicting thoughts and emotions. How do we reconcile the push and pull of happiness and sadness. And yet we all do. It is in deed an indicator that we are living, sentient beings.

Somehow, as I traversed this day of transition, a day of looking forward with hope and looking back with melancholy, I felt a peaceful contentment for where I am and where I have been. Looking out over the pond from my new abode, somehow marrying the past with the future.

Thank you all for making this journey with me so far. I truly look forward to what lies ahead. Knowing it will not always be cheerful. Understanding that there must be other challenges and sadness ahead. But this day I celebrate where I am – who I am – and what might be.

Dropping Out Of The Race!

I’m announcing here that I am suspending my candidacy for President of the United States of America and endorsing Kamala Harris for President.

Well, the first part is a joke. The second is not. I had no doubt about the ticket heading into the convention. I guess I couldn’t have less doubt now, but I have gained enthusiasm from it. More later.

Completing the final stages of my move. Too much work, not enough time – to write a post. Next week should be less hectic. I hope to make the next post worth your while.

Magnificent Bird Adventures

Traveling back and forth between central and eastern Iowa so many times this last month (moving to and from) has provided me with ample opportunities to enjoy the magnificence of its Summer landscape, various farm crops and animals, and wildlife. Rolling on a hybrid of four-lane and two-lane highways brings me closer to nature than does the interstate system, while getting me to my destinations in a reasonable amount of time.

I was accompanied this past Tuesday by Ben, my son’s stepson, for company and assistance in packing and transporting some of my belongings. As a tall, strong thirteen-year-old, I knew he could handle laborious and heavy tasks that I either could not or did not want to tackle by myself.

A huge brown owl provided our first surprise entertainment when we had to backtrack to help out my son’s being stranded at a car rental store. It launched itself from a large tree just right of the two-lane, flying directly overhead as it crossed the road. Magnificent! I rarely see owls, even while hiking in the woods. They blend in so well and perch so still as they survey the forest floors for the many rodents that scurry through the undergrowth, brush and fallen leaves. What a sight to see with wings extended in full regale!

Having crossed over the Iowa River at Coralville Reservoir several times over the past few weeks, I was aware that this is the time of year for the late summer pelican migration. There is an Audubon outlook on the north side of the lake, on the road to East Amana, with plaques that describe these huge, majestic, white and black wetlands birds, and their migration patterns. If you are reading this and in the area, Sunday is the Annual Pelican Festival that takes place at the outlook.

On Tuesday, as Ben and I were crossing over the reservoir area, I began to describe the festival when we spotted between 50 and 100 birds at water’s edge, while some flew low and slow as they glided in for their landings. And if you have ever seen a pelican squadron soaring high above the earth, you know how they shimmer white, then disappear against an azure blue sky, only to reemerge as the entire squadron changes direction, white wings fully extended and synchronized, reflecting the light of the sun. It is truly an amazing sight in nature.

Now fully loaded with boxes and totes, we backtracked our route to central Iowa. A very routine drive is interrupted only by a five mile stretch of two-lane on a four-lane highway under construction, and the periodic threat of rain or storms that typically build out of the west.

This day was different. Not far from where Mr. Owl surprised and excited us several hours earlier, a Red Tail Hawk flew just above car level and across the road in front of us pouncing on an unsuspecting rodent in the median just to my left. If you’ve ever witnessed such an event, you know how the hawk appears to revel in its victory and upcoming tasty feast – unless it is saved for its young in a nest perched somewhere in a dead or dying tree.

Birds, and particularly birds of prey, are a highlight of any day during which I have the blessing of witnessing them soaring, hovering, and hunting. The majesty of pelicans, cranes, and herons exemplify the wonder of regal flight. The kind of flight I have only dreamed of, mastering the breezes, pondering our magnificent world below. I can hardly wait for my next magnificent bird adventure.

On the Other Side

I began this blog in March of 2020 just as COVID was beginning to really grip the world. I was concurrently in the early stages of providing extended care for my wife suffering from Parkinson’s Disease with Dementia – or Lewy Bodies Disease depending on who’s doing the diagnosing. At first posting was sporadic but began to give me an outlet for expressing my hopes, fears, frustrations, love, and learning.

As time and disease progressed, my musings became more cathartic as I delved into music, travel, and continued challenge. When Pam died, I found myself more committed to consistent discourse on many subjects, but most importantly to me, about me working through my grieving process for a loss I couldn’t comprehend. You, my faithful readers, have supported me with your responses, your concern, your caring, and yes, love.

Therefore, I think it only fair and fitting for me to convey the excitement and wonder I am experiencing as I realize I have emerged on the other side. I’ve seen it approaching. I could sense the change in me. In my relationship with my Pam. With acceptance of things that, though I in no way wanted, could do nothing to change.

As it happened, it really began with the sudden decision two months ago that it was time to move closer to where my son and his family live. I realized that I no longer needed or wanted to be all the time reminded of my former life that was so viciously taken from me by a disease. My mate that I love taken away much too soon. Resolute, I began a new journey, still unfolding, that moved and accelerated at a pace I had no clue would catapult me to where I am now.

Since then, I quickly acquired an apartment, began moving “stuff”, and realized I could already live in it. Within a couple weeks I had abandoned my former house to begin a new chapter. I have not looked back. And though I so enjoyed that house, neighbors, and neighborhood, I am totally comfortable and excited in my new abode. Now I have sold “our” home. Soon to be forever in my past as I experience my present and my new future.

I have re-established, and in some cases begun new relationships with high school acquaintances from fifty years ago. I am realizing new opportunities to be a grandparent, a father to my son, and the possibility of new companionship and maybe even future love.

Those of you who know me know that I have lived with purpose over the last two plus years to work through my grief, to take care of my physical and mental health, with the goal of making to this new point of possibilities, new hopes for a happy future. I think I have made it!

Yet I recognize and realize that, as I venture into new and uncharted territory, times and places that extend beyond what had been, I will always love Pam. I will never forget her. I still think of her daily. And often I smile. I smile because I know that she knew that if she went first, I would get here and that she wanted this for me. I can reminisce about our good times without dwelling on the desperate last few years of challenge and sadness.

So I am sharing, and hoping to adequately convey, my feelings of excitement and thankfulness for all that has been and the prospect of things to come. My sincere hope has been that by sharing my experience I could be a guide, a comfort, a solace, to at least one other person who reads wutjavia. I can say confidently that I have made it. I am not so naive to think that there won’t be challenges, loss, and heartache in my future. But I have regained my strength and self confidence. I am ready to face what comes.

And it is amazing. And I just wanted you all to know. You have been instrumental in me mastering my struggles. I hope you sense and are edified by what I am writing today. I hope and yes, maybe even pray, that you can glean something from it. And… Thank you!

P.S. In the midst of my excitement and current euphoria, I just learned that my brother-in-law’s sister passed away last night after an extended illness. They have been geographically separated for many years but fortunately have had recent opportunity to be together. My sincere condolences go out to Eddie, his 100+ year old Mother, his younger sister, and extended family. My heart is sad in the knowledge of what they now have to experience (again) as they work through their grief journeys. Eddie, I wish you well!

“Real Men Love Babies”

So says a billboard somewhere on the back highways of Alabama.

Its intended purpose is to persuade men to vote against women’s right to choose, against any abortion. It is indicative of a Southern religious mentality that pits the right wing, freedom from government control of their lives groups, against other’s views of freedom being about letting people make their own personal decisions.

Our society is based on a set of laws that is meant to ensure that all persons are treated equally, that we steer clear of laws that limit government control while providing for the safety and welfare of everyone within our borders.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on.” So said Eric Clapton during an Unplugged performance of Alberta on M-TV many years ago. I recognize that I am in no way knowledgeable enough nor qualified to write about this subject. I can only try to communicate how I feel and how such expressions, i.e. billboards, affect and affront me.

I am pro-life AND pro-choice. Of course I/we want people to have children. It is not only wonderful, but innate for our survival as a species. But I cannot fathom being forced to carry something growing in me that I neither meant to cause nor want! If it were men who had to carry a fetus in the womb, I think they’d be singing a different song.

But what I simply cannot understand is how the very people who want less government control of their property, their money, their “freedoms” are the same people who want to control others’ bodies and thoughts because a god, or any other socio-religious entity says it’s the only true and right way! The same people who truly believe that some humans are more human than others, or less so, think that the only sustainable race profile is white, Christian!

As I read what I am writing I know that I have now gone off the diving board into the deep end of opinion at the risk of upsetting those I have tried so hard not to. All in hopes that you “like” what you read. I feel bad if that’s how you feel. I respect it. I understand if you think you must divorce yourself from this blog. But I do not apologize!

Maybe next week I’ll get back to the wading pool with warm fuzzy topics like travel or music, family and friends. But not today. Today I am taking a stand (or a dive, not to mix metaphors)!

Life on Earth

While visiting family I find myself not only in different surroundings, but with different stimuli while on an elevated deck contemplating the universe.

My first encounters were with subtropical weather. High humidity, higher heat, the build up of rain-filled clouds during afternoons and evenings, sometimes precipitating overnight. Everything is lush and green, not unlike home, but in the hills of Georgia, tall trees are prevalent, reaching for the comforting embrace of the firmament, surrounding the houses and streets, hiding much of the sky that I normally see at home.

As I looked up between the towering foliage I saw the sky – our atmosphere – in a way that I don’t remember realizing before. Like a 60-mile thick blanket it warms us. It cools us, nourishes us, and protects us from external universal forces that would otherwise make life on earth impossible.

As the building, billowing clouds mixed with the azure sky framed in tall pine and tulip trees, I somehow understood our earthly blanket’s lifegiving significance. At the same time I felt that it, as other living beings on earth, is threatened by how humanity treats this unique, amazing phenomenon. It left me simultaneously in awe and in fear.

Returning to the deck on another afternoon, life touched me in a very different way. A dragonfly landed in a potted orange tree next to me. I was struck not only by its beauty, but also by the complexity of its body, by its wing structure, transparent and framed in blue , and the attachment to its torso. Its eyes and mouth (basically its face) conjured human-like attributes. What an amazing being. What an amazing manifestation of life on earth!

When I moved it flew, only to return in seconds to the same or nearby branch, staring at me and I at it. So I spoke to it. It seemed to nod in understanding as I expressed my appreciation of its beauty and life force. Again it flew. Again it returned. I decided to approach it directly from ahead. I extended my hand. It stayed. I touched its hair-thin black legs. It stayed until I tried to lift them in hopes of having it transfer to my finger. It flew.

Walking away to the other end of the deck I felt so in touch with life on earth. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to become so aware and connected to life on this earth that, in the end, I would simply fade away into it, mixing my energy with the plants and animals, the air and the sky. Finally, I would be one with life on earth. Maybe I already am.

Chivalry

As in the Age of Chivalry, whether in love or war, respect, compassion, and politeness are honorable traits we all could benefit from now.

“Chivalry is/isn’t dead.” I’ve thought about these cliches many times throughout my life when opening doors, especially for women, letting people in line at the checkout or passing lane, or responding with respect to people in authority, those older than I (I know, they are getting harder to find), and, actually, people in general. But also when reacting to those who do the opposite or fail to be respectful of others.

My regular readers recognize that I often quote Webster’s Dictionary when defining words I include in my posts:

as in gallantry

speech or behavior that is honorable and polite

Gentlemen who were lucky enough to gain invites to the state dinner are expected to act with the finest chivalry.

In an act of rare chivalry, the driver allowed several cars stopped at a “yield” sign to go ahead

I was reminded when I looked up chivalry on Google that its origins are quite different:

the medieval knightly system with its religious, moral, and social code.

  • HISTORICAL knights, noblemen, and horsemen collectively. “I fought against the cream of French chivalry”
  • the combination of qualities expected of an ideal knight, especially courage, honor, courtesy, justice, and a readiness to help the weak.

Cambridge Dictionary has it this way:

very polite, honest, and kind behavior, especially by men toward women.

the system of behavior followed by knights in the medieval period of history, that put a high value on honor, kindness, and courage: the age of chivalry.

I was talking with a friend the other night who recently lost her husband rather abruptly after a short illness. She was talking about how her late husband took care of the lawn, bushes, and household maintenance and that she would have to learn to be more independently “handy” now. I immediately thought of chivalry. Here’s how she described him:

[His] love language was service – always making sure everything was working correctly, fixing and making improvements for his family and our renters. I know from experience that not all men have this quality. But he certainly did.

Many of you who read this understand that, right or wrong, we were brought up this way. In fact, we are probably the last generation to embrace a chivalrous philosophy. It’s not even a conscious attitude, although sometimes I worry that those for whom I am opening a door might think it a misogynistic act.

Things began to change during our formative years in the ’60’s and ’70’s. Women’s liberation and free – almost everything – began reshaping social norms. Don’t get me wrong. I am completely on board with love and equality for everyone. But I contend that chivalry should NOT be dead! Rather, it should also be equal for men and women. Its actions are out of respect, honor, and politeness regardless of its origins and changes in social norms.

Personally, I am proud when I act chivalrously. Once again I go back to my basic rule – treat others the way you want to be treated. As in the Age of Chivalry, whether in love or war, respect, compassion, and politeness are honorable traits we all could benefit from now.

May it be so!

P.S. As I was opening the outer door to the building vestibule with a cart full of boxes and totes from my previous house. I noticed two girls, maybe 10 or 11, in the main building hallway. One looked over at me. Upon opening the inner door, she came toward me and asked if she could hold the door for me.

Maybe it is so!