Monday, January 23, 2012

Happy Chinese New Year 2012

Happy Chinese New Year!
Year of the Dragon.

Saturday, January 21, 2012



Pause a moment.
Gently roll shoulders.
Slowly drop chin to chest.
Relax your whole body, 
starting with your toes and working your way up to your neck.
Shut off your computer and get a good night sleep.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Etta James Sing At last

Etta James passed away today.  She will be remembered and missed.  God bless.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The New Yorker Eustace Tilley Book- Bag Contest

Eustace Tilley Book-Bag
I picture a white and emerald canvas print book-bag embossed with silver adornments.  A versatile classic book-bag one can use for more then just books.
Go to The New Yorker and check out all the great art work and vote for your favorite.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Thursday, January 5, 2012


Care to take a guess at what it is?

Monday, January 2, 2012

Flash Fiction eBook

“Where, O death is your victory?
Where, O death is your sting?”
By:  Peggy Jo Farr
Copyrighted 2011

The Gallery, an eclectic shop of artwork, jewelry, high-end items, and other entertaining trinkets is owned by one of the oldest families in town, the Demerits.  Earning their money the old fashioned way with hard work and creative accounting, knowing when to get in and out of a business with the money before the well runs dry, they earned their money in coke via the steel industry.

Raymond learns well from his paternal grandfather and father, extracting as much money as possible and getting out before profit goes south, literally took it to a new art form when he open The Gallery
Raymond Demerits growing up with opulence has an appreciation of the finer things in life had hit the twenty-fifth silver anniversary mark of his business, knowing the time to get out was at hand.  The Gallery, known for style and luxury was tarnishing like silver right before his eyes.  His grandfather and father could see a change coming but now change happened almost instantaneously in the twenty-first century.  What style and luxury is today is not what it was yesterday, and certainly will be different tomorrow.

What venture looks most profitable is the question Raymond had begun to ask himself.

Mulling over a few ideas and taking a flight to Miami on Spirit Airlines, first class of course, was just the ticket he needed to clear his head and focus on a new direction.  Did he really need to revamp his business and start all over with a new venture?  Or, could he just use The Gallery as a means to another end?  Lying on the beach, eating at the newest hot spot, and smoking a great Cuban cigar might give him the answers he sought.

Raymond is in his forties and growing up in a rather wealthy established area of the state, knew more about people’s personal lives than anyone else could imagine.  People in general took him into their confidences and he for the most part kept their assurances.  Having a good memory and well trained, well-educated mind empowered him.  How much he did not realize until his trip to Miami.

In Miami he had run into an old high school associate, Maria Hayward.  She was not a friend then and he was not sure as to her sudden appearance on the scene now.  Maria Hayward a beach honey blonde British bombshell, who went through men like some go through socks, made his hair on the back of his neck bristle just thinking about her.  Suddenly he remembered where he had seen her recently.  She had been a lead flight attendant in first class to Miami.

Had he seen her in Tapes Jazz, one of the hottest new bar restaurants in South Beach?  He could not remember.  The Miami trip was still a little fuzzy.  He had had way too much fun at Tapes Jazz.  The headache he had the next morning, as well as, on the return flight made him come to terms with his fast aging body.  Living large can ravage the body as well as the soul.

Sitting in his office pondering on what to do next, Tamara the newest sales assistant rang in from the front end stating that Maria Hayward was in town and would like to take him up on his dinner invitation if it still stood.  He felt as if all his blood was draining from his body and thought he could pass out at any moment.  What had he done while in Miami?

Gracious as Raymond might appear to be, he was afraid and had no idea as to why.  But vaguely he remembered that even in high school people who encountered Maria Hayward were never quite the same again. 

“Hello Maria, How lovely it is to see you again he said, as he reached for her hand.  What brings you to The Gallery today?”

“You invited me silly.”  She purred in her silky velvety voice.  “My parents moved to sunnier skies since retiring.”  “I have no idea where the happening places are in this part of the state.”  “I only pop in on flight lay overs.”  “Do you have a place in mind where we might have a bite to eat and catch up with each other?”

Raymond’s mind whirled.  He could not seem to think of a response.  Think!  Think!  He thought to himself.  Then he sputtered, “The Maple Leaf restaurant is a great little place to dine.”  “Will eight tonight work for you?”

“Yes, Maria accepted.  Eight will be just fine.  I am staying at the Inn.”  “Ring at the desk and I will be right down.”  “I look forward to catching up Raymond.”  “See you tonight.”

As she left The Gallery he felt as if the wind had been sucked out of his sails.  He just could not shake the foreboding that his life was about to change and not necessarily for the better.  What did Maria Hayward want with Raymond Demerits?

The bewitching hour arrived; eight o’clock and he felt as if his life was flashing before his eyes.  Parking his Mercedes in the green lot in the back of the Inn he thought that walking to the Maple Leaf would give him an opportunity to investigate Maria’s purpose for being here.  Surely, he was not the reason for her renewed interest in town.  Her parents had left for sunnier skies upon retiring.  She had money of her own?  Why is she still working as a flight attendant?  What happened in Miami?

Crossing over the driveway deep in thought Raymond was hit and instantly killed by a political tour bus entering the drive.  Raymond Demerits’ was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital, his short life over.  Buried in the mausoleum at the top of Cemetery Hill beside his paternal grandparents, father and mother, he never saw it coming.  There was no special dispensation for Raymond Demerits.

Sunday, January 1, 2012