Saturday, April 30, 2011

Easter Season

For you shall go out in joy,
   and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
                     Isaiah 55:12

My liturgy teacher in seminary told me that the message of Easter was far too great to be contained in a single day.  In doing so, she reminded us that Easter on the liturgical calendar is an entire season lasting through Pentecost, not a single dress-up occasion.  While this is completely true, it is often hard to remember while walking through the day-to-day practical life of the church.

Most pastors and church leaders have worked so hard to prepare for Easter Sunday, they have an understandable collapse immediately following the big day.  The church visitors who donned their new dresses or ties will hang them in neatly the closet, possibly wondering if the Christmas eve service will be as nice.  The regular membership of the church, who keep things going throughout the year, cast their eyes toward the long, hot months that are coming and start making vacation plans.  Easter brings on Summer Brain.  Things slow down a bit.

I feel this myself.  The warm weather has made me long for the road, to be on my way – to go somewhere exciting, or to just go somewhere!   In the town where I live, I often can get a good view of the North Georgia mountains, and I know that the Smokies are not far behind.  They sit beckoningly on the horizon, reminding me of the world beyond.  So often when I’m on my way to somewhere that I’m supposed to be, I’ll feel the urge to bypass the parking lot and just step on the gas!

Maybe there is some sense in this.  It may seem terribly imbalanced to connect my longing to be somewhere other than home with Jesus’ choice to be somewhere other than the grave, but I’m not sure it is so far off.  In the Resurrection, reality cracked open and we learned that there is more to the universe than we previously thought or could imagine.  God became bigger – or rather, we got a wider glimpse of the God that we worship.  Existence is now staggeringly greater than it had been.  I would hope, at the very least, that we find it hard to go back to our normal routines after being witness to this.  I hope we are impatient with life as we know it.

I have been thinking of this because we had pesto for dinner last night.  Last summer I made this pesto, when my world had been temporarily turned upside down and I had decided to head for the hills.  I was due at Lake Junaluska in North Carolina by nightfall, but I saw that my basil was trying hard to go to seed and I knew it would be worthless by the time I got back.  So I loaded my suitcase in the car, went back inside and pulled out the food processor.

The recipe I used can be found here.  I liked that it had one step in the directions:  blend.  Pesto freezes well and we have been enjoying till this very day.  It was worth being a little late.

I hope that Easter makes us restless.  We may think we long for sand and sun, or mountains, or fresh air but underneath all of this I think we are yearning for more of God than we have in our hands right now.  We know that there is more to be had and are just feeling around for the best way to find it.  Keep searching.  Spend this season making your way forward even if you’re not sure what direction forward is.  If it requires some gasoline or a plane ticket, so be it.  The quiet voice that is egging us on is none other than the Spirit of the Living God calling to us in a single word.  “Come.”

Friday, April 22, 2011

Good Friday

So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him.            John 19:16-18

I have done nothing that seemed particularly glorified or holy on this Good Friday.  I didn’t even go to a formal worship service.  I just walked on the Greenway with my husband, attended the Special Olympics and saw both my children win ribbons, then celebrated with a lunch of Mexican food.  None of these activities occurred behind stained glass windows, though they may be among the most holy things I do.  Mostly this evening I am resting and praying. 

Tonight, before putting the computer down for good, I made a loan through Kiva.  If you are unfamiliar with Kiva, by all means check them out!  They allow common individuals like you and me to help make microcredit loans to people in developing nations.  Because of my interest in food, I tend to favor the loans for agricultural purposes.  Tonight, I helped to complete a loan to Pum in Cambodia who hopes to grow watermelons.

It is hard for us to get our minds around Jesus’ death on the cross.  This terrible and wonderful act changed our universe, and though we have discussed, considered and theorized on its meaning, ultimately it remains incomprehensible.  But it gains some traction for me when I can make some meager offering to share with someone else in the world, someone who does not have the abundance that I do.  Truthfully, I am not giving what is mine, but what is God’s.  My sharing is no more than an acknowledgement of our common need for God’s grace, and a recognition of the fact that we have received that grace equally though our material circumstances may differ.  We are identical in our poverty at the foot of the cross of Christ, and the same in our blessedness.

May you be blessed this holy season.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Drink Coffee. Do Good.

And he said to them, ‘Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.’    Mark 16:15

I have been spending time lately at one of my favorite coffee spots, Land of a Thousand Hills Coffee Company.  Their original coffee house is in Roswell, but now they have expanded to Atlanta and Cumming.  Their motto:  Drink Coffee. Do Good.

The company began when in 2001 the founder of Land of a Thousand Hills, Jonathan Golden, felt called to participate as the nation of Rwanda sought to heal from the 1994 genocide.  Today the company engages more than 2,000 coffee farmers in Rwanda through the support and creation of cooperatives which work not only toward financial empowerment, but also toward reconciliation and hope.  The company’s goal is to create “a business that engages redemption through excellent coffee and builds a global community by connecting the average consumer with a tangible avenue for everyday justice.”  

I like to support them by drinking their coffee.  Today my choice is an espresso drink called “The Reverend.”  This drink combines a shot of espresso with raw sugar, so it is sweet and extremely strong as most of us reverends are called to be.

While few of us will ever witness the horror of genocide as it occurred in Rwanda, we see evidence of our sinful and broken humanity all the time.  As a pastor, I get a front row seat to the best and the worst in the folks I encounter.  We clergy are privileged to be present at some of the most important times in the lives of our parishioners.  We are there with families when people arrive or leave this life.  We preside over some of life’s most sacred moments.  And sometimes, we receive their brokenness in the forms of anger and meanness.  Through all of this, we are called to speak the truth.  We are called to be strong and sweet and sometimes raw. 

On Maundy or Holy Thursday, we remember Jesus’ last meal with his disciples - delegating to them the responsibility to teach, heal and love in his name.  On Good Friday, we remember the day Jesus gave himself to our brokenness.  He let us do terrible things so that we might receive life.  Our world was no more fractured then than it is now.  We see our fragmented selves in Hutu and Tutsi, in neighbors and families turned against one another, in insiders and outsiders, in the mirror when we’re brave enough to look.

May we be strong and sweet.  May we refuse to give ourselves to the despair of brokenness, but remember the wholeness we are granted.  Let us embrace it and spread healing throughout the world in the name of the One who died for us, who rose for us and who calls us to go.

May your eating and coffee drinking be blessed.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Wednesday Night Dinner

‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends.  John 15:12-15

Tonight it was chicken and pasta, with some grilled vegetables on the side and garlic bread.  I didn’t serve, but I went through the line twice, once for my kids and then again for Todd and me.  It’s a good thing I know the folks serving.  Otherwise, they would have thought I was a real pig.

One of my fondest memories of a Wednesday night dinner was when I was in seminary.  I had my very first job as a staff member of a church and I was very excited.  When Wednesday night suppers started, the staff was asked to serve the first meal.  So we put on our aprons and dished up lasagna, served salad with tongs, and scooped out cobbler and ice cream.

The next morning, I met with my Christian Thought colloquy.  I can’t remember now what important theological concept we discussed, but I do remember clearly the juxtaposition of these two events; the heady conversation born from our desire to understand God better, and the unpretentious service of dishing up pasta and sauce.  Both were communion.

In the Gospel of John as Jesus sat down to eat his final meal with his disciples, there was much of the same kind of discussion as in my colloquy all those years ago.  There are chapters and chapters of Jesus teaching his disciples, and I can only imagine there were questions, comments, stories from them as they struggled to understand all that the Kingdom of God really meant.  But the talking wasn’t everything.  In the washing of the feet, in the serving and eating together, in the presence of Jesus among those who loved him most and doing the most common things in the world, the kingdom of God was made real.

We are nearing the end of Holy Week.  On Thursday, we remember this meal Jesus shared with his disciples.  The Last Supper.  We gussy it up now with our pretty golden patens and chalices – and rightly so, it is a moment to celebrate – but Jesus ate shared with his disciples the most simple and direct of all meals:  bread shared among friends.  He calls us to do the same.

Even here in cyber-land, will you break bread with me?

May your eating be blessed.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Slow Food

How long, Lord, how long?  Psalm 6:3

Dinner was late.  I thought I had started early enough, but it was 7:00pm when we finally sat down at the table together.  I should mention that this is the kids’ bedtime.  After writing about hunger all day, I hadn’t planned on making my children experience it too.  Who knew that fried shrimp would take so long?  I should mention that I was also busy burning the dessert.  It wasn’t my most successful meal.

In spite of its slightly troubling name, the shrimp was really good.  We ate it again for lunch today wrapped in a flour tortilla with lettuce, sour cream and spicy mustard.  I suppose anything can be redeemed.

We are walking through Holy Week.  Many things happen this week in scripture.  In the time between the triumphant arrival in Jerusalem and his arrest, Jesus weeps over the holy city, cleanses the temple, speaks to his disciples about his death only to be misunderstood.  The Gospel of John even says that many believed in him who would not profess it openly for fear of the religious leaders.  Jesus denounces the Scribes, predicts the destruction of the temple and Jerusalem, and does in an innocent fig tree.  These are dangerous times.

I wonder if the disciples were irritable and edgy in the excitement of these few days.  They knew something momentous was about to happen, though they were far from understanding what.  Were they bumping into each other, trying to figure out the appropriate way to behave when you are hanging with the future king?

I would love to spend this week in somber meditation on the weighty events of these few days.  But I find myself too often having to put down my Bible and end my prayers in order to splash hot oil around and burn cookies.  The sublime gives way to the ridiculous very easily in this household.

Still, I have to remember that Jesus died for even this:  for my son, who won’t come to dinner because Thomas the Tank Engine is on.  For my daughter who insists on watering the tomatoes within an inch of their lives.  Even for me as I try to blog my way into making sense of it all.  I am grateful for the message of Holy Week, of Good Friday, of Easter:  that even at our most absurd and comical, we are a people who can be redeemed.

May your eating be blessed!

“Slap Yo’ Mama Fried Shrimp”
Peel and devein approximately 2-3 lbs of medium shrimp.  Sprinkle with “Tony Cachere’s creole seasoning.
2 beaten eggs with enough milk to cover peeled shrimp.  (I add “some” Tony Chachere’s seasoning to this.)  Let this set in the refrigerator for at least 20 minutes – up to 8 hours as long as it is kept cold.
*Remove the shrimp by “handfuls” (let the egg mixture drip off).  Dredge in a mixture of flour and Tony Chachere’s seasoning.  Dust off excess flour.  Fry in approximately 1 ½” oil on med high to high heat.  DO NOT OVERCOOK!  Ass soon a brown remove to colander.  Let drain and place on paper towel.
                *Remember!  When you START frying, have all shrimp dredged in flour and do not try to do anything else – this will go very fast.  If you get distracted you will overcook the shrimp.  The secret to good fried shrimp – Do not overcook! – Ann Bass

Monday, April 18, 2011


‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Matthew 6:25

I did it again.  This morning, as I busily went through the process of exercising, dressing children and making beds, I forgot to eat before sunrise.  Get ready for another hungry day.

So far, today has been different from the last time I missed breakfast on a fasting day.  Today I was hungry to begin with.  I didn’t have to wait for it.  I have had less opportunity to philosophize about hunger and more time to feel it.

All morning, my stomach has been making polite suggestions as to how this problem of emptiness can be solved.  “Look, there is that unopened bag of cashews you bought at the grocery store.  That could help you resolve this hunger problem.”  “Putting gas in the car?  I happen to know they sell candy bars at the counter.  Just saying.”  I find myself instinctively coming up with ways to alleviate this hunger before remembering that I am hungry on purpose.

What I didn’t mean to be was grumpy, but I find that’s coming out too.  I am realizing that the discipline involved in fasting also means making behavioral choices that are appropriate when I least feel like making them.  Irritability may be a natural reaction to hunger, but it cannot force me to behave irritably.  I have the choice to discipline my actions and behave pleasantly if I want to, though I am not sure I do – still more self-awareness gained from spiritual practice.  I am finding, in fact, that lots of bad habits come to the surface when we're hungry.  Any time we are under stress, we will revert to our most comfortable and well-practiced behaviors, whether they are good or bad.  Fasting may give us a good opportunity to observe ourselves at our most honest, whether we mean to be or not.

Most of all, fasting is teaching me about what I need and what I don’t.  Right now, my stomach is screaming at me, telling me that it isn’t getting what it needs, though it is;  that it is dying, though it isn’t.  My conscious mind knows that I am not going to perish from a day without food, but I think my stomach has named the fear that really is at the heart of it all.  What happens if we don’t have enough?  If our needs aren’t met?  We can die.

This is Holy Week.  We are taking the slow but now short walk toward crucifixion, toward death.  We would be foolish not to be afraid.  And yet, somehow my fearful stomach and our terrified world must learn that death as we know it is not to be feared.  God’s promise is to nourish both our bodies and the spirit of life that has been breathed into us.  Even in death, neither will be lost for good.

Truth be told, my body has all the resources it needs to continue even if I went hungry for days.  It has stores of energy (more than I would like) that it can easily draw upon.  And, of course, I will be eating again before the day is over.

We funny human beings are so afraid of want.  We are terrified of scarcity, which is strange since most of us have never really experienced it.  We have, however, a God who has provided us with all that we need and even given us wisdom to aid us in making sure this provision gets around to everyone, though we sadly fall short in using it.  But trusting that we have enough, even in the face of evidence to the contrary, is at the heart of faith.  We trust God to do God’s part, so we can turn our minds to the assignment of being God’s people in the world. 

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Palm Branches and Musical Bears

So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting, ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord—the King of Israel!’            John 12:13

Today we were going to fry shrimp.  It was going to be the topic of tomorrow’s blog.  Now I’ll have to find something else to write about because we went to Bear on the Square in Dahlonega instead.  I love festivals of all kinds, but Bear on the Square is one of the best because of the street jams.  In downtown Dahlonega during the festival, groups of musicians playing Bluegrass will appear on every corner, and some spaces in between.  It’s great to stop and listen, and amazing to have so many talented people in one small town.

Our day had plenty of food, however.  The entire day it seemed like we were continually ingesting something, from candy store delicacies to fried apple pie to wine tasting.  Being Sunday afternoon, I had expected a small crowd.  I had thought things would be winding down.  The crowds showed up, however, ready for the kettle corn and banjo.  It was a fun day.

While listening to banjo and fiddle doesn’t often bring the Gospel story to mind, today’s festivities seemed to perfectly fit with the excitement of Palm Sunday.  We celebrated in church this morning with the children as they paraded through the sanctuary with their palm branches.  Through the Palm Sunday celebration, we remember the excitement felt by the ancient Israelites as Jesus made his way into Jerusalem.  This was their moment, they thought.  All was about to be made right.  They were about to witness the kingdom of God ushered into their nation and their world.  I can only imagine that they were going through the roof!

As we look on this story today, with a perspective across many centuries, we know that the revelry was short lived.  It was followed almost immediately by crushing disappointment.  Even the victory of Resurrection wouldn’t erase and the horror of the days that followed Jesus’ entrance into the holy city.  But the party was worth having, as most parties are.  The pain that we will endure in our lives will not remove God’s gracious presence among us, or make our lives any less blessed.  There is always reason to celebrate.

Every party is worth having.  Our small family party last night included Chicken Pot Pie and Sweet Potato Casserole.  The casserole was very much like the recipe I printed on a recent blog, so I won’t print it again. When I printed this earlier improvised recipe, it didn’t occur to me to call it sweet potato casserole.  The rule in my head, that I didn’t know I had, was that sweet potato casserole had to have marshmallows.  This experience has broadened my understanding.  One of the few differences was that this recipe called for a cup of sugar in the sweet potato mixture.  I used far less sugar and it was fine.  I think it might have been just as good with none! 

The chicken pot pie was very good, which came as a surprise to me because I am not usually a fan of the stuff.  The cream cheese makes it.  I added some tomato because I had some, left out the eggs because I didn’t.  Finally, I sprinkled some dill over the top.  It was delicious.

May your Holy Week be filled with celebration and remembering.

Blessed eating!

Chicken Pot Pie
1 whole chicken (cooked and deboned)      1 can Veg-all, drained
1 can cr. Chicken soup                                   2 boiled eggs, chopped fine
1 8 oz. cream cheese                                      1 ½ c. chicken broth
Mix together well.

1 c. milk                                                                1 c. flour
1 stick butter
Mix and pour over the chicken mixture.  Mix up and bake until light brown. – Lonna Russell

Saturday, April 16, 2011


For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.      Galatians 5:1

I want my children to love gardening.  This year, to encourage their interest in watching things grow, I gave them their own garden.  I bought them each a colorful little bucket and let them paint the outside.  Then we drilled some drainage holes and filled it with potting soil.  We spent a Saturday morning making tiny finger imprints in the soil and filling them with seeds.  Now each morning the kids help me water the sprouts in their garden as they sit in the sun on our kitchen table.

They both love watering.  Probably because the little antique mister we use is also colorful and just the kind of gizmo that kids love to play with.  I have no trouble getting them to help.  In fact they like it a little too much.  If I leave the mister on the table, I will find the kids giving our seedlings a generous deluge.  So far we’ve had no casualties but this offers an opportunity to talk about balance.  I try to explain to the kids how some things can be healthy and necessary in certain amounts but can be unhealthy, even detrimental, in others – that too much of almost anything can be bad.

I have thought about this a lot over the past several weeks.  Now that the season of Lent is coming to an end, it is time to begin taking stock of what was learned.  I have found that there are many pleasures we enjoy in moderation that can be deleterious if overindulged.  I have also discovered, as I do every year, that giving things up is hard, even the things that seem like they ought to be easy. 

I have considered addictive foods like caffeine and sugar, and have begun to reflect on the place they hold in my life. Even though I have long joked about my “addiction” to morning coffee, I am beginning to realize that the dependence is more real that I enjoy thinking about.  Probably the same is true for sweets.  And if I can’t give them up as simply as I thought I could, what exactly does that mean for me and for my faith?

There are many things in our lives that can enslave us.  Some we know to battle against.  Some, we dive into willingly.  In many cases, we are unaware of the power these things can have over us.  We become aware when they have a serious effect on our lives – as in the case of nicotine or alcohol – but we remain happily unaware of the hold that soda, coffee or other foods may have on us; not to mention other addictions such as work, shopping, sports etc.  Without serious health consequences to wake us up, we may remain oblivious to the fact that we are slaves.

Like the apostle Paul, I would like to be slave to nothing except God in Jesus Christ.  I would like to be free from the sin and disease of addiction, however subtle or benign that addiction may appear.  I do not want to be a slave to compulsion but would like to be my own master, second in line only to God. 

As I watch the sprouts of our Thumbelina carrots grow, I am reminded of all that God provides for our health – and that health is only maintained by bringing into our system what is nourishing and whole.  I was careful in buying potting soil, seed starter, plant food that would be good for our plants, for us and for the environment.  May we all be equally vigilant in choosing what comes into our lives, food or otherwise.  To what are you a slave?

May you eat what is blessed!

Monday, April 11, 2011


Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Surely God understands.  It’s Trowbridge’s! 

While making a spring break visit to my hometown of Florence, Alabama, we made a stop at one of my favorite old haunts.  Trowbridge’s is a sandwich and ice cream shop that is a fixture in the life of our small town.  Open since before my parents were born, it saw me through my own growing up years.  It has changed not at all. 

Trowbridge’s is a small cafe with a lunch counter and pictures on the walls of Florence from decades past. The lunch menu still offers egg & olive sandwiches - which I swear I’m going to try some day if I can tear myself away from their hot dogs – as well as lettuce and tomato, chicken salad and other traditional southern favorites.  They still serve Coca-Cola in small glass bottles.  On my way out, I overfed their gumball machine with dimes, never dreaming that anything could still be bought with a penny.

So even though I have given up sweets for Lent, it seemed mandatory somehow that I eat ice cream at Trowbridge’s.

I have never been great at fasting.  While I have displayed enough self-discipline to earn a master’s degree and become an elder in full connection, somehow food is my undoing.  Being such a weakling in this area, I stand in awe of the dedicated Christians who can – and choose to – miss several meals in a row for the sake of their souls.  This Lent I decided to give it a try, but my beginning was in baby steps.

The original plan was to fast one day a week from sun up to sundown.  I accidentally scheduled the first day when I was having guests for lunch.  Then I changed sundown to dinnertime, so I could eat an evening meal with my family.  If I have breakfast before sunrise then I am really only missing one meal, plus the snacking that is more habit than hunger.  It sounds wimpy, I know.  I call this my “baby fast.”  But what is even harder to admit is that this small amount of hunger is still very hard to contend with.

I continue to learn the things that come with fasting, or from disciplines of any kind.  Whenever we try a new discipline – when we extend ourselves or try to control our habits or actions – we get a front row seat to our own weaknesses.  We are reminded not only of our constant need for grace, but also the fact that grace is really and truly available.  We learn about ourselves from our failures, and we grow from our perseverance.

Today I accidentally forgot to eat breakfast before the sun came up.  I fully intended to eat enough for two meals while it was dark, then piously forego lunch.  But night became day while I was distracted, and in an unusual exercise of self-restraint, I decided not to go ahead and eat anyway.  In fact, this is the first of my fasting days that I have practiced fully.  I did not eat until this evening when my family sat at the table together and said grace. 

Since I made dinner tonight, hunger became an even more interesting choice.  I decided not to even sample the recipes as I was making them, but learned their quality at the same time as the rest of my family.  Though I was becoming ravenous by the time I started cooking, I found that it passed.  Or I became distracted enough not to care.   While I have lived through immense sadness in my life, it is a new lesson to learn that simple discomfort can, in fact, be endured.

I know that God actually does understand our weaknesses, along with all of the other beautiful quirks and imperfections that make us who we are.  But the understanding is really beside the point.  Keeping a commitment to God means also keeping a commitment to ourselves.  Maintaining a discipline that we have chosen is not an obligation to our Creator, but a gift of which we are both giver and recipient.  Success comes from a belief in our own ability and worth.  Disappointment calls us to compassion.  I hold for dear life to the belief that such efforts cannot really fail.  However we may stumble, we make our way forward inch by inch.

The tuna casserole was great.  I added some crushed corn chips to help thicken it.  The cake also tasted really good – yes, I ate dessert – although its appearance was comic.  This is the first time I have made icing, and I was far too lazy to work all the lumps out of the butter. 

May you come to know yourself in this Lenten season.

Blessed eating!

Tuna Casserole
Large cans of tuna, drained         1 can Cheddar Cheese soup
1 container of sour cream            ½ cup minced onion (optional)
1 box egg noodles                           salt & pepper to taste
1 package shredded cheese
 Put tuna into large bowl.  Mix cheese soup and cheses and tuna together.  Cook package of noodles as the directions say.  Put into bowl with tuna.  Add onion, salt, and pepper.  Mix thoroughly.  Put mixture into buttered 9”x11” dish.  Put dish into oven @ 350o for approximately 30 minutes. – Lisa Wade

Lemon Orange Cake
1 c. margarine, softened               ¼ c. shortening
2 c. sugar                                          5 eggs
3 c. plain flour                                 1 t. baking powder
½ t. baking soda                              ½ t. salt
1 c. buttermilk                                 1 t. vanilla extract
½ t. lemon extract
In a mixing bowl, cream margarine, shortening, and sugar until light and fluffy.  Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.  Combine dry ingredients; add to creamed mixture alternately with buttermilk, beginning and ending with dry ingredients.  Stir in extracts.  Pour into three greased and floured 9 inch cake pans.  Bake at 350o for 25-30 minutes or until cakes test done.  Cool for 10 minutes in pans before removing to wire racks to cool completely.
½ c. margarine, softened                              3 T. Orange juice
3 T. lemon juice                                              1-2 T. grated orange peel
1-2 grated lemon peel                                    1 t. lemon extract
5 ½ to 6 c. confectioner’s sugar
Beat margarine until fluffy; add the next five ingredients and mix well.  Gradually add sugar; beat until frosting has desired spreading consistency.  Spread between layers and over the top and sides of cake.  Yield: 10-12 servings. – Jane (Wavie Lee’s co-worker)