WHAT IS A PROPER SCREEN DOOR?

I must admit, never paid much attention to screen doors

on homes, especially screen doors on

the front door. I always thought they looked

ugly; I never had a screen door on any

of my apartments, condos or homes.

What’s the reason for having a screen door?

Do you want the breeze to come into your place

or stare out at your neighbors, thinking they can’t see into your home?

I’m going with a little of both.

I like cool breezes to enter on a warm day

and then there is the art of looking out your front door…

who knows what is going outside. My little dog, Toby, loved to watch the

birds fly by as he sat by the screen door.

When I moved into a 55 year and older gated community

outside of Temecula in California, I started

to notice the screen doors on the homes.

Everyone had a different version of a screen door.

The home I was living in came with a

“invisible screen”. One that pulls in and out

on your command.

Wow, it was impressive and easy to operate.

You can stand at the front door and let

neighbors, passersby and even service

people come and go with just a touch

of the door. How is easy was that?

Very easy indeed.

Then press the button and it disappears, like magic.

No ugly screen door.

However, it was different story for my next

store neighbor, Sylvia. She hated the

invisible screen door.

You see, she’s from South Africa originally, and those

invisible screen doors were not her cup tea. I can say that because

she was very British with a heavy Brit accent. Sylvia was a jolly good lady to have as

a neighbor, she was always wanting to visit and knew all the good gossip.

I would invite her into my kitchen and we shared tea and stories together.

She bought a smile with her each time she came over and I liked that about her.

On morning I was standing in my kitchen,

having my second cup of coffee and I happened

to hear someone outside, yelling.

I looked out the kitchen window to see Sylvia

and her caregiver struggling at her front door.

Sylvia was yelling, “I can’t get it open or closed”

I was trying to get a better look at what was going on,

I saw they were trying to get the

invisible screen to open. It was not moving.

I stepped outside to assist and asked if I could

help them.

When you have had your morning coffee,

you are ready to help anyone with anything.

That’s me, ready to give advice or a hand.

(after coffee, of course)

By this time, Sylvia was so upset, she screamed,

“I want a proper screen door”.

Our attempts with this screen door were

unsuccessful and Sylvia ended up

leaving it ajar and then closed the main

door and reappeared thru the garage

door, got in the caregiver’s car and drove off to the store.

I stood there wondering what is a proper

screen door?

Did I miss something new on the market?

I’m on all social media sites, so what is

“a proper screen door?”

 

It got me thinking about what is so

proper about a door, a screen door?

 

Did we not have these doors in America?

 

Do you have to be from a foreign country

to be proper?

I tried to think if screen doors came in colors,

and if they did….

Aren’t all doors equal?

They all come from a metal, right?

So nothing should be held against one

door from another.

 

Wasn’t my door equal to Sylvia’s door?

 

I still needed to know, what was a,

Proper Screen door?

Maybe, I needed one for my house,

after all, I’m her neighbor and I

didn’t want my screen door to feel inferior.

 

I waited until Sylvia returned home from her

shopping, then I went over to her place

and asked, exactly, what was a proper

screen door?

 

Sylvia replied, “You know, one that opens

and closes, a Proper Screen door.”

 

If only you could see her gestures, opens out

and then closes in and locks.

Opens…

Closes…

Locks..

Yes, it sounds like an regular screen door

to me. (not the cool invisible one)

 

And just to think I was worried about

my own screen door being proper

enough for my new neighborhood.

 

No worries, just another day in the Oasis

community with 500 other screen doors

wondering if their screen door were

a proper screen door.

Just remember,

MY DOOR, SCREENED OR NOT IS ALWAYS OPEN.

FOR VISITORS.

Story written by:

BARBARA KISKIS

May 9, 2020

 

 

 

 

Meet CHEWY the Chihuahua

I am a proud and mighty Chihuahua , I am.

 

Once upon a time, I use to eat leftover tacos and rice

but that was before I found my forever home with the humans:

Finn, age 16, Keely, age 13,  and the parents, Erin and Eric, ages unknown.

They rescued me from a family who had too many dogs and could

not care for me properly.

That was my lucky day!

I am confident, feisty, courageous, and loyal dog, at your service.

(takes a bow)

My full name is: CHEWY COCONUT  (Just in case you want to look me up someday)

I am never far from my human owners; and oh, I  forgot to tell

you, I don’t like leashes. No way, José!

I wear a flea collar, an identification tag and license,

just in case I get lost.

The human kids, Finn and Keely, have a swimming pool in their backyard,

but I haven’t tried it out, yet. I just watch from the sidelines and occasionally

bark and yelp. My bark is bigger than me but then again I’m a

Chihuahua. What else would you expect from such a little guy?

My big dad, Eric, likes to take me to the beach. You see, Eric is a surfer

and is very good at surfing. I sit on my beach towel

and watch him catch a few waves.

 

Oh, life is good here in Southern California.

Did you know that my breed, Chihuahua , is an ancient breed descended

from the Techichi dog of the Toltecs of Mexico and possibly also from

Mayan dogs of South America . I’ve been told that they found images

of my ancestors on the pyramids at Chichen Itza . (Mexico)

I remember Aunt Barbara telling, all of us, about the ancient ruins

at Chichen Itza . She has been there and saw for herself  all the ruins.

Maybe, I take after Aunt Barbara because she likes to travel and has many wonderful

travel stories and some day, I’m going to follow in her footsteps.

I’ll pack a knapsack and venture out on my own. Oh, I can dream, can’t I?

Aunt Barbara says to travel well, often and

don’t forget to have fun along your path of travel.

You never know who you will meet along the way if you

keep your eyes open to adventure.

Me thinks, TRAVEL, is Aunt Barbara’s middle name.

So, are you still wondering how we, the Chihuahuas ,

got here?

Well, the story goes like this…

according to my great grandmother,

Christopher Columbus, yes the one, who they say discovered

America in 1492, brought the Chihuahua to Europe for the

King of Spain . (Do I smell ROYALTY?)

We are mentioned in a letter that Christopher wrote

to the King.  It looks like we were crossed with the Chinese Crested

in order to reduce our size. We became very popular in America ,

where we were first called a “Texas Dog”.

In AKC standings, we range 12th

out of 157 dog breeds.

So there you have it. We are loyal dogs, maybe

we are loyal royalty dogs.

I do like to dream about royalty, traveling and a good tasting milk bone.

Some day, I will become, Chewy, the Royal Dog,

of the M Castle in SO. CALI . (that’s So. California)

BYE-BYE now,

I need to chase those kids around the pool and bark like crazy, so then

I can lay in the sun and day dream.

Written by BARBARA KISKIS

May 6, 2020

This is a true story based on little CHEWY ‘s life and told to me by

his human family.

The story is dedicated to my niece, ERIN.

This is a photo of Chewy’s human family.

 

 

 

MY LOST JAMAICAN SEASHELL

I wish, oh, how I wish I could find my lost Jamaican seashell.

But, I’m afraid it’s might be lost forever.

 

I have looked everywhere possible for my

shell but it’s not to be found.

Some time after my move to a new place to live,

I discovered it missing.

 

When you have something so dear and precious to you

that you can’t bear to say good bye…

That seashell was a memory, a treasured keepsake, and losing it makes me sad.

 

I would like to see this magnificent Jamaican shell next to my entire shell collection which is a focal point in my living room. I live in Oceanside, California and many of us have a coastal theme going in our design. I have a book case filled with my favorite books and jars of seashells.

Sometimes, I feel lost without it; I know it doesn’t have any magical powers so the shell couldn’t disappear into thin air.

I find myself remembering the past; what was and what now.

I know it’s just a seashell, but I’ve had it for over 40 years.

 

My son, Jamie, and I took our first vacation together after my divorce. I wanted a special place; somewhere we would remember for a very long time. I chose Jamaica because I was an avid reader of JAMES BOND books. (not movies). Author Ian Fleming would spend his three-month annual holiday at his estate on Jamaica, which he called ‘Goldeneye’, after a wartime operation Fleming had been involved in. (The estate would, in turn, inspire the name for a later Bond film.) Indeed, the ornithologist from whom Fleming took the name of his hero had written a book on birds of the West Indies.

Books, Birds, and Bond were my fascination with Jamaica.

 

We took the trip in June, 1980, before the airlines had direct flights from California so we had to fly from Los Angeles to Miami and then from Miami to Montego Bay. Jamie was only 10 years old and little shy and nervous about traveling.

But after our trip to Jamaica, Jamie found his traveling spirit

and has been hopscotching the globe for the past 40 years

which he shares with his daughter, Sahara and his wife, Karen.

Ours was memorable trip because there was a

Military Coup in Kingston, the capital, when

we were there; we stayed at a gorgeous secluded resort

in Montego Bay.

Even though we were safe, at least that is what we were being told,

we were not allowed to go into Kingston.

Due to the turmoil on southern tip of the island, Jamie and I visited other scenic areas on the island that were around and closer to Montego Bay.

We enjoyed our week’s stay even though there was a COUP going on in the country.

I’m addicted to adventure and I was determined our dream vacation

was not going to turn into a nightmare.

We made fun memories in Jamaica and hoped to go back again.

 

One early morning, I was walking the deserted beach alone 

and came across a small size pinkish/white

seashell. It was half buried in the

soft sand, I bent over and dug deep into the sand

to capture my Jamaican seashell.

It was small enough to fit in the palm of my

hand…I smiled to myself and marveled

at my find. A beautifully sculptured shell

glistering in the morning sun.

It was a morning that I would never forget.

I put the shell in my shorts pocket and

when off to meet my son for breakfast

on the veranda of the hotel.

I was still smiling when I greeted Jamie.

Surprise, I found a shell on the beach!

Now, after all those years of keeping

my special Jamaican shell close by me,

I felt a sense of lost.

 

Maybe, I should have wrapped it in colorful tissue paper

and put it into a cute designer box.

 

Was I being careless with something I had

for so long, and I took it for granted?

I always thought the shell would be there for me,

to enjoy and to remember my trip to Jamaica

with my son.

 

But now it’s gone…vanished in thin air…

will I find my keepsake shell?

I prayed to every saint I could remember,

St. Christopher, St. Joseph and others

but my prayers were not answered.

Lost forever …..or just missing?

I know, from now on, I will cherish my

most precious belongings and keep them

closer to me in the future

and just maybe my faith

will bring my Jamaican seashell

back home to me.

I’m reminded of this tongue twister based on a song written by Terry Sullivan.

It’s thought the song is about a real seashell seller named

Mary Anning (1799 – 1847). Mary Anning was more than a seashell seller.

She collected fossils and contributed important information

about prehistoric life to the scientific community.

She supported herself selling fossils to geologists and to tourists.

 

She Sells Seashells by the Seashore

 

She sells seashells by the seashore,

The shells she sells are seashells, I’m sure.

So if she sells seashells on the seashore,

Then I’m sure she sells seashore shells.

Written by BARBARA KISKIS

MAY 5, 2020

Story is dedicated to my wonderful son, JAMIE J. KISKIS

 

 

THAT’S MY DOG, TOBY

To quote Will Rogers: “The best doctor in the world is the veterinarian. He can’t ask his patients what is the matter…  he’s got to just know.” It all started yesterday morning with a trip to the Vet’s office in Sun City, the town next to Menifee,  for Toby’s check up. This was Toby’s second trip to this office in 6 months, so yes he remembered the place as soon as we drove into the parking lot. He wasn’t very happy to see the office or the other dogs waiting outside the door of this Vet’s office.  So, as soon as we got a few inches from the door he bolted from his collar and leash and took off running in the parking lot.  A kind hearted woman offered to help but as it turned out it only made matters worse…Toby kept running…towards the busy intersection, which we just minutes before past through. My heart was racing and I was screaming for Toby to come back.  So you can imagine my fear of him getting hit by a passing car. Either he didn’t hear me or this was his version of a marathon thru Sun City.  Somehow, by a miracle, he crossed over safely to the other side of the street and found himself in a bank parking lot.  I didn’t know this at first; I quickly as fast as I could jumped into my BMW and drove towards the area I thought he would be going. There I saw from a distance away that a young girl had him cornered for a few minutes of time; I was saying to myself, thank God, it’s a woman and not a man. Toby doesn’t do well with men. By now I was getting closer to Toby but there were just too many curbs and driveways to get right to him. I’m honking my horn and yelling that that’s “MY Dog”!!! I must have scarred the young girl who was talking to Toby because she backed off and then out of nowhere there were 2 paramedics in their truck jumped in to help capture my little Toby. And of course, they were both men. My heart sunk a little lower this time around because I could see Toby didn’t know which way to go. So, he just kept running thru several parking lots with a half dozen people plus the ETM truck with the drivers and myself in fast pursuit.. The people of Sun City, mostly retired folks seemed to be enjoying this adventure. They were looking and talking and pointing at Toby as if he just escaped jail. Now, I must say that the ETM guys were not going to give up UNTIL….. Toby bit, one of the guys and he stopped long enough to ask my if my dog had his shots. I yelled back “yes” and then thought back 6 months ago when I first brought Toby to this Vet in Sun City to get his shots.  ahh….that’s a close one avoided. Do you want to know what happened next???? So, you think the story is over and we lived happier ever after? After, we got Toby in the car, he was pretty much tired after his run and I was so shaken up I forgot to give a “reward” to the man who finally  captured my baby. As the ETM’s ride by my car they gave me their “Thumbs Up” and I in turn gave two thumbs up. Are you still with Me? There’s more to this little dog tale….. I drove home with Toby in the back seat, swung into my garage, closed it so he couldn’t escape . Safe at home with Toby. I called my neighbor, Elaine, a true dog lover and proud owner of her own 2 dogs. She had helped me in the morning to get Toby into the car to begin with so I thought it was fitting to tell her what happened in Sun City. Elaine quickly came over to my home to help me check out Toby who now had a limp in one leg. Being a concerned dog person, both of us, we decided to call the “Mobile Vet” to check out Toby because I wasn’t sure if he was hit by a car during his run. I left a message for them and prayed they would call back soon. What if he was truly injured during his escape? I wouldn’t be able to live with not treating him right now. I couldn’t go back to the original Vet. However, I called that Vet’s office and explained what happened and that I would not be able to make our appointment. (I was covering my bases because I didn’t want to be charged for not showing up for my scheduled appointment) Fortunately, they saw what was going on outside of their office and said okay. A few minutes later, the 1st Vet returned my call. She was very concerned for Toby and gave me her words of wisdom. (I’m sure she was hoping Toby was still alive and she didn’t lose a patient) Still with me????  The “Mobile Vet” called me back within an hour.  I wasn’t sure how to express to them that I needed an appointment…NOW. A man answered my call ( you know my thoughts about that already) I said, “ my little dog just had a bad adventure by the vet’s office and I need someone to check him out”  before I could finish, he asked me if my dog and I were the ones in the Sun City parking lot by the bank a few minutes ago? I, of course, said “yes” He said, “Wow, everyone in the Sun City bank is talking about you and your dog.  Our truck drove into the lot just a few minutes after this happened.” I was shocked to hear that this was the highlight of the day for the residents in Sun City. I think because Toby is now famous in that great city that we got our appointment that afternoon, at my home, without any additional incidents. Just a large Vet bill. But it was all worth it to have Toby safe and in good care. He was not injured. Thank  God!!! My Toby story was written in 2009. He was my best little guy for over 15 years. He traveled with me many places including living with me in SALT LAKE CITY when I worked for the WINTER OLYMPICS. (2002) We had many happy times together. The above photo is of us when lived in Utah from 2001 to 2002. It was his groomer’s place called LITTLE DOGS. Such a darling place with sweet people and only small dogs. Toby passed away in July, 2011 in Oceanside, California. Gone but not forgotten, my baby Toby. Buenos Noches. By Barbara KisKis April 3, 2020

LITTLE SPARROW

I might be a little sparrow but I have

big dreams of being famous one day.

The other birds think I’m crazy loco,

but I don’t care.

I have a family to feed back home

in my nest.

During the day, I look for crumbs to fill

me up and later bring back to my

babies.

It’s good that I’m talented. I hop around

on tables and dance for the tourists.

On this island, in the Caribbean , we learn

at an early age

to entertain the tourists that get off those

big ships. They give us bread and stuff.

Yummy.

I always dance the best and the tourists clap

for me and then feed me. Sometimes,

I wear a red feather on my head. This way

I get noticed and that means more food.

Yummy.

Who could resist a Sparrow with a red feather

on her head?

I can be silly but I can sing a song like no

other Sparrow around.

I always know when the fun is over for the day.

The tourists go back to their ship for their dinner

and I stay around to bid the last of the passengers

a good evening of dancing and singing.

They like to leave me the last crumbs of their

lunch and I am very grateful for that.

I save the crumbs for my babies, who are very hungry.

“Thank you, everyone!” said the little sparrow.

But first, I must take a quick nap under the trees.

I just hope the lawn sprinklers don’t come on when I’m resting.

I don’t like getting wet. My singing voice might get

off tone before I fly home.

Ahhh, what a beautiful afternoon it has been.

Friendly people to sing to today, not a sad face

on the lawn. I felt the happiness around

the tourists and the islanders were friendly also.

“I am happy,” said the Sparrow.

Oh no, here comes that Mr. Robin.

He always wants something from me. I don’t trust him.

“Well, Mr. Robin, what do you want from me today?” asked

the Sparrow.

Mr. Robin, replied, “I wanted to wish a happy day.

You have become popular with the tourist, maybe

someday you will be famous.”

“Yes, I will become famous and I will fly off this

island. But for now, I must get back to my family. They

are hungry and I saved this food for them.”

“Can I fly along side you?” asked Mr. Robin.

“Only if you promise not to sing along the way,” said the Sparrow.

“It’s a deal. I get so lonely out here by myself,” said Mr. Robin.

So, off the two flew to the Sparrows’ nest to feed the little ones

or that what the Sparrow thought. When they arrived at the

Sparrows’ nest, Mr. Robin took charge

and demanded all the food for himself.

“No, no, you can not take our food. I worked by singing and

dancing to get this food for my babies,” said the Sparrow.

“I watched you all day and thought you were silly doing

all of that dancing with the red feather on your head. Now,

if you don’t give me your food, I shall take you babies

and you never see them again,” said Mr. Robin.

“Please, do not take my babies. They are all I have

on this whole island,” pleaded the Sparrow.

With one swoop of Mr. Robin feathery wings, he picked up

the babies and flew away. He hid the babies on a different side

of the island so no one would find them.

The Sparrow was very sad because she lost her babies.

She loved them and she missed them more then ever.

The Sparrow knew she was I good mom and needed a plan to

get her babies back from Mr. Robin.

She called on the other island birds to help her

to get her babies back. One by one the birds arrived

to help the Sparrow. Once they had their plan put together,

they all flew at day break.

Mr. Robin didn’t know that the birds had called each other

through their own singing while sitting on the telephone

lines. These lines were strung up all throughout the island.

There would be nowhere Mr. Robin could hide with

the Sparrows’ babies.

The birds flew in a “V” pattern high in the sky, so they could

see the hideout where Mr. Robin was hiding.

The Sparrow cried, but was ready to fly to another part of the

island in hopes to find her babies.

Not too far away, the Sparrow spotted her babies and they

were hungry and crying.

Since Mr. Robin was away from the nest, this was her chance to

be a hero for her babies.

She flew down into this nest and rescued her babies.

and took them back home. Safe at last were the babies.

The other birds got the news and came at once to congratulate

the Sparrow on her daring rescue.

They all clapped their wings and sang for her.

Now, they said she was famous for saving her babies

from Mr. Robin.

“Thank you, Thank you. You are my wonderful friends,”

said the Sparrow.

The sun was starting to set on the island and all was quiet and calm.

The Sparrow was tired but happy.

The other birds found Mr. Robin and flew him off the island.

He never returned again.

The Sparrow took a deep breath of the fresh ocean air

and thought how wonderful it was to have friends who

told her she was famous.

Sweet dreams, everyone!

By Barbara KisKis

Dedicated to my friend, Ginny.

May 3, 2020