Thankfully, I barely sat down and my name was called. I walked over and I was asked to step into another room. The nurse took my blood pressure and asked the reason for my visit to the ER. I could hardly speak or hold my head up, and I explained to her my symptoms which compelled me to visit the ER. She sent me back to the waiting room and said I would be called shortly and to my great surprise, I was called…within five minutes.

As ill as I was, I could feel the eyes of all the ones who were there before me watching my every step. I’m sure they were wondering why I was being summoned before them. I remembered something about people being seen on the priority of how serious the emergency was. That gave me cause for both comfort and alarm. Evidentially the nurse who took my blood pressure was keenly observant and realized I was very ill.

I was placed in an examining room and attended to very quickly. A nurse came in first and asked me a lot of questions; next a lab technician took several vials of blood, then a urine sample, the whole nine yards. Then a doctor came in to examine me and asked more questions. I am deathly ill by this time and can barely talk. Things are happening quickly. An Ultrasound was ordered, then a CAT scan. No one is telling me what they think is wrong with me. I sense a lot of apprehension and I’m scared and I can tell Larry is very worried.

After about an hour, two doctors come in asking more questions. One of them inquired if I had been drinking. I told him I had not. He then asked if I had a drinking problem, again, I answered ‘NO’. He turns to Larry for confirmation and Larry told him we don’t drink at all. I wanted to know why he though he was dealing with a drunk woman. I certainly wasn’t acting drunk. (Those days were long past) He told me one of the blood tests revealed either my (can’t remember which) amylase levels or triglycerides were over 3000 and that is an indication of the pancreas failing. My white count was over 12,000. Basically, everything was off the charts. They told me I was going to be admitted. I’m thinking, okay…whatever is wrong must be really serious. One doctor told us that if I had even drank a small glass of water that it could have caused my pancreas to hemorrhage and I would have likely bled to death.

Within two hours I had been given a series of tests, admitted to the hospital and had IV’s in both arms. Even though they still didn’t know what the problem was they finally gave me some morphine for the just take me out and shoot me pain and thankfully it knocked me out.

The fourth day of being in the hospital and after being visited by a group of specialists, I was visited by an Endoscopy doctor. He explained to me that he would be doing an ERCP (endoscopic retrograde cholangiopancreatography) to look at the pancreatic and bile ducts using contrast and X-rays) on me that afternoon. I was truly petrified. Just the thought of someone putting an instrument in my mouth that would snake its way down my throat into my abdomen made me very emotional.

When it was time, I was taken by gurney, to a large extremely cold and dimly lit room. There were five people waiting for my arrival.  I was told to lie on my stomach. I tried, I really did, and the pain was just too unbearable, so I was allowed to lie on my side. Amid the pain, the meds and everything else I felt myself begin to panic. I don’t think I have ever been as frightened as I was at that moment. I knew that if I didn’t get a grip… and get it fast, things were going fall apart quickly.

This is the moment you have all been waiting for, my ‘peace that passes understanding’ moment.

I focused on the clock on the wall and I just started talking to God. I told him I was very scared and I felt like I was going to get hysterical. I asked him to calm me and I told him if I lived or died it didn’t matter, that I knew I belonged to him. As soon as those words ran through my mind, I was instantly at peace.

All of my fear left me. I was able to focus and follow directions. One person asked me to open my mouth and she placed something square with a round opening in the middle of it inside of my mouth. She told me she was going to stand back and squirt a gel like substance through the opening which would numb my throat. Then I would be given a slight sedative to help me stay relaxed. She went on to explain when the doctor came in he would insert an instrument into the opening that would explore my insides. She assured me they wouldn’t do anything until I was ‘asleep.’

I felt like I was in a Sci-Fi movie. She stood a few feet away, aimed and I could see the gel coming out of what looked like miniature oil can. It landed perfectly at the back of my throat causing me to gag. She instructed me to relax. These five people were standing across the room, just watching me and then the doctor came in and they were all just standing there watching me. I could hear them wondering why it was taking me so long to go to sleep. Then I heard one person say, “I think she’s ready.” I remember forcing my eyes open and trying to open them and shut them as quickly as possible to let them know I was NOT ready. That is all I remember until I woke up and I was back in my room.

About two hours after that test a surgeon cam in and told me I would be going to surgery. The test revealed that I had Gallbladder Pancreatitis. All of the previous tests had not revealed any gallstones. The last test revealed that my gallbladder had been full of stones and they had emptied out blocking the duct or ducts in my pancreas.

I was all alone, Larry was still at work. He came everyday after work and he always picked my mom up and brought her with him. There was no way for him to get to the hospital before I had surgery. I fell asleep and when I woke up my brother-in-law Wayne was sitting in a chair in the corner. I was so happy to see him. He told me he would stay until Larry and mom got there and until I came back from surgery.

One more thing I want to share with you which delighted me. When I was taken to the operating room that afternoon, before the anesthesiologist put me under, the doctor came over to me. He took my hand and he said “Mrs. Garrison, I would like to have a prayer before we do your surgery.” I could see him and all the staff gathered around to pray for me. I was absolutely speechless. I thought, I am in good hands, a doctor and staff who pray for their patients.

 I had sixteen previous surgeries over the years prior to this one and not one doctor ever prayed for me. The care given me during that ordeal was excellent, from the time I arrived until the time I left. The hospital and staff were the best I’ve ever experienced.

I was hospitalized for seven days and off work for two months. Due to all of my previous surgeries they had to cut me open. I was not a candidate for Laser surgery.

If you are still with me…you know why I made this in two parts. I apologize for the length.

I doubt I will ever forget that experience. My words really can’t describe what I felt when that peace came over me. I know it came from God and it’s a moment I will always carry with me. It really does transcend understanding.

Yesterday my post was on Peace that passes understanding. Today I will share a critical time in my life when God gave me that peace. There is not one fragment of doubt on my part that I was given that gift of peace.

I shall call it my “Week of Uncertainty”…

January 18^th 2004 was a typical Sunday. We still lived in Merced CA. We attended church services in the morning and I had planned a trip to Clovis that afternoon to visit my handicapped daughter. The residential care home where she lived was having a birthday party for her and other clients from the home that had January birthdays. All of the parents were invited. My friend Mary went with me. After visiting with my daughter, Mary and I decided we would have a late lunch at the Olive Garden. I had their Pork Filet and it was delicious.

On the way home I started feeling a bit queasy. I didn’t think too much of it, I thought it was just indigestion. We got home around four that afternoon. I took a couple of Tylenol and took a nap. I woke up about an hour later, feeling much better and we went to church.

Monday was Martin Luther King Jr.’s Birthday. Larry had the day off and I had to work until noon. After I got home we had lunch. About ten minutes later I was feeling sick again, so I repeated the Tylenol and nap routine thinking I was fighting a bug. I woke up a little after 4pm and I was much worse than when I laid down and I knew something else was going on besides a bug. I asked Larry to call the doctor. The office was closed for the holiday. I decided to go back to sleep and hoped whatever it was would go away. I woke up again at 6pm. This time I had a very high fever and “the person who lives in my gut”, the one who is always telling me what to do…was telling me I needed medical help and I needed it fast.

I told Larry I thought I better go to the hospital and when I did he knew I was really feeling badly. By this time I also had severe pain in my stomach and back. I then told him I didn’t want to go to either of the hospitals in the town where we lived. I simply did not have any confidence in them or the doctors at that time. So we drove to Turlock to the Emanuel Hospital which was 25-30 miles North of where we lived. I had never been there but I had heard good things about it.

When we arrived at the ER, the waiting room was packed. There were exactly two empty seats. Patients were to sign in, sit down and wait to be called. I was so ill by this time I could barely sign my name and when I saw all of the people there, I thought…I’m never going to be able to sit this long without passing out.

Okay, forgive me friends. This is going to be a long post, so please visit again tomorrow for the “rest of the story.”

BTW…A while back I was invited to write a guest post for Peter Pollock at…  http://blog.hafchurch.org/peter/ you can check it out there and if you are interested in writing a guest post for him, just let him know.

Do you have peace in your life?

I often see people who live in a continuous state of turmoil and I think to myself, “How can they stand to live like that”? It’s then I remember that I used to live the same way. It was my “normal” and I really didn’t know that everyone didn’t live in a sea of chaos.

At some point in my life I realized I didn’t like the turmoil. I tried escaping by using drugs and alcohol. That relief was temporary and only caused more conflict. Now there are multiply things which try and steal our peace.

A big one for me is…

The problem: If I spend too much time watching the news, I find it’s a sure way to rob me of my peace.

The cure: Turn the TV off!

I’m certain many remember the hippie movement from the early 1960’s. It was all about peace, love and joy.

The problem… with that movement though is the peace being promoted was non-violence, and that was fine. The free for all sex was the love and joy part. It seems to me there must still be a lot of hippies out there.

That’s not what I’m writing about today, I’m writing about the inner peace we have from God, the peace that passes understanding; a peace that is achieved without alternative states of consciousness.

PEACE (pes) (shalom; eirene): Is a condition of freedom from disturbance, whether outwardly, as of a nation from war or enemies, or inwardly, within the soul. In the Old Testament: The Hebrew word is shalom, meaning, primarily, “soundness,” “health,” but coming also to signify “prosperity,” well-being in general, all good in relation to both man and God. In early times, to a people harassed by foes, peace was the primary blessing. (from ISB Encyclopedia)

The cure: We learn from the book of Romans that we have peace with God through Christ, since we have been justified through faith. Rom 5:1-2

We also learn that the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace and the sinful mind is hostile to God. Rom 8:6-7

Consider the following scriptures:

Aim for perfection, listen to my appeal, be of one mind, live in peace. And the God of love and peace will be with you. 2 Cor 13:11 Sadly, many of the body do not live in peace with each other.

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:7

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. Col 3:15

Be encouraged and live in peace regardless of problems that will come along, and they will. Our God is the God of love and peace.

For he himself is our peace… Eph 2:14

We do not have to let worldly affairs take Gods peace from us, when we do, it affects us and those around us. We can go to God with prayer and thanksgiving. We live in a world full of conflict; we don’t have to be a part of it. I don’t understand this peace which guards my heart and mind; yet I do believe it.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

Peace is not the absence of trouble. Peace is the presence of God. (unknown)

Monday’s…from my kitchen to yours.

4 eggs
1 cup half & half

4 tablespoons all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 7-ounce cans chopped green chilies (Ortega)

4 cups shredded Cheddar Cheese (about 1 pound)
4 cups shredded Monterey Jack Cheese (about 1 pound) 

Lightly grease 9×13-inch glass baking dish. (I use Pam)

Beat first 6 ingredients in medium bowl to blend.   (I used food processor)

Pour all of the egg/milk/chili mixture into prepared dish and then cover with all of the cheese.

Preheat oven to 400°F. Bake until casserole is slightly puffed in center and golden brown on edges, about 35- 45 minutes. Cool 10 minutes and serve.

Serves 8

This dish can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.

Delicious!! (A favorite of ours)

My heart isn’t into writing today. A predator broke into the chicken coop last night and killed Buddy and Lucy (our rooster and hen) so I am posting a previous article from March.  Hope you all have a God-filled weekend.

I love to cook although it didn’t start out that way. If you’ve been following you know I was a child bride. I had to learn many things by trial and error and cooking was a big one. The Monterey County Clerks Office mailed me the first cookbook I ever owned. It was titled “The Bride’s Cookbook” and had perhaps 50 pages of advice and recipes. I decided to try cooking a pot of pinto beans. Let me tell you, I LOVE beans! I had never made them so I used my brand new cookbook. The recipe called for 3 teaspoons of Chili Powder and I misread and added 3 heaping tablespoons. I’m not sure what else I did wrong; needless to say the beans were not edible. For some reason that cooking blunder didn’t bother me too much, the next one however is a different story.

I decided I would bake a Walnut Glory Cake. I had picked up another cookbook at the supermarket. Pillsbury Bake-Off Winning Recipes (or something like that). The recipe called for ingredients that I really couldn’t afford; on the other hand I was eager to cook some nice meals and desserts. The recipe called for 9 egg whites and to use almost a dozen eggs for one cake was living a little high-on-the-hog.

It happened like this…I turned on my old radio that I’d had since I was nine. Set out my ingredients, turned the oven on and went to work. The baby was sleeping and all was good. My old angle food cake pan was the kind that the center lifted out of, so in the back of my mind I kept reminding myself “not to pick the pan up by the middle when it was time to put it in the oven”. Mind you, I didn’t even own so much as a hand mixer and had I known more about cooking I would NEVER have tried this particular cake. Remember those 9 egg whites? Well they had to be beaten until very stiff peaks formed. Yep, that’s right, with fork in hand I whipped those non-submissive egg whites until I thought my arm would drop off. It must have taken the better part of an hour, and finally they were starting to take on some shape. Feeling oh so proud and hopeful I finished with the egg whites and completed the recipe. I poured the batter into my ungreased cake pan, licked the spatula and picked the cake up to put it in the oven.

As soon as I took hold of that pan things went down hill. After all of my self reminders…I did it…I picked that pan up by the middle and the cake batter crept all over the kitchen counter, down the sides of the cabinet and onto the floor. I was beside myself. Frantically I tried catching all I could and finally realizing the despair of it all I just exploded. I was in disbelief… Crying uncontrollably I grabbed a hammer and smashed that pan flatter than a pancake and I didn’t stop there, I beat my old plastic radio to smithereens too. I think that hurt me worse than anything. I loved that old radio. It had been a constant companion to me. I dumped the whole mess into paper bags and hauled it out to the garbage. My kitchen looked like it had just seen a Saturday night brawl.

Cleaning up the atrocious mess was bit of a lesson learned. I began to realize consequences come with unchecked anger. My old plastic radio had been given to me from my Sunday school classmates when I was stricken with Rheumatic Fever. Had I not lost my temper I would probably still have the radio.

One of the stories I’m about to tell is a bit strange as I think about it now. At the time it seemed perfectly normal. I think I must have been about eight and my brother Stan was about ten. We lived in Shawnee and there was a big creek very near our property. Stan and I spent numerous hours there. It was more like Fantasy Island for us. We became whoever we wanted to be for the day. We created our own adventures; Huckleberry Finn would have loved hanging out with us.

Stan has always been my hero. I’ve written often of our dysfunctional family, yet he was always, and still is the Rock of Gibraltar to me. I shudder to think of how much more messed up I would have been were it not for him. Today I will share some of my memories “down at the creek.”

It was a typical hot summer day around mid-afternoon. We had a cat, which was probably a stray that hung around. Daddy was working up in the chicken coop or barn; I really can’t recall which it was, or why he was home. Perhaps it was on a Saturday or he was out of work. Stan and I heard a lot of “meowing” going on so we wandered through the tall grass until we found the source. There was mama cat and three little kittens. The kittens were very tiny and a couple of them were bleeding through their noses. That really frightened me and I began screaming and kept on screaming. I guess that really scared daddy and he came running over with a hammer in his hand. (I really hate telling this next part) He was so angry when he found out why I was screaming that he took his hammer and killed every one of the kittens. He walked away saying something like “now there’s you something to scream about.” Stan and I were scared stiff and horrified. (We had seen daddy’s temper in action too many times) My young eyes could not believe what they had just witnessed! (I was disturbed by the fact long afterward, had I not screamed the kittens would not have died).

Stan did his best to comfort me even though he was upset too, and by now I was trying desperately to control and stifle my sobbing. I didn’t want daddy to hear me and make him mad again. Stan came up with a plan. We scooped up the kittens and ran off to the creek. We dug a special hole for each of the kittens, buried them in the sand and put wildflowers and some weeds on top of each grave. We had a funeral for those kittens. I couldn’t tell you what we said at the ‘funeral’ if we even said anything at all.

The next day we ended up at the creek again, and I will never know what possessed us to do what we did after that. Perhaps it was curiosity or perhaps it was just being silly little kids. We visited the ‘graves’ we had prepared the day before and decided to dig them up and see what the kittens looked like. Remember this was in the dead of summer. I do remember a lot of flies, had we been older that would have been a clue to steer clear, but we were clueless! When we “unburied” those poor little kitties, it didn’t take us long to put them back in the ground. The stench was unbearable. We were learning some serious lessons, the hard way. We ran down to the water laughing and gagging to wash our hands. Then we cried and laughed and cried and laughed some more. We were still sad over the kittens but we were laughing too. I guess that’s what you do when you don’t know what else to do.

Another time when we were at the creek I got caught in the quicksand, I can remember standing in it up to my knees and enjoying the coolness of the sand creating a vacuum around my legs. I was half scared and half excited as I began sinking. When I realized I couldn’t get out and that the harder I tried the more stuck I became I began to panic. Stan was always so much smarter than I was. He immediately told me to be still and he grabbed a broken tree limb and told me to grab hold and hang on. He literally saved my life by pulling me out of that quicksand. I doubt we told our parents either. We didn’t want to be told we couldn’t play at the creek anymore.

I can’t explain the emotions running over me as I remember that long ago day. I guess bitter-sweet memories come closest. Daddy obviously had his own demons to deal with and he abused all of us in different ways. He mellowed out as he grew older and all of us kids forgave him at one point or another, as did mama. I never did until after he died, I was still a mess at that time. I still love him; he’s the only dad I had.

Kids and parent’s are sort of like marriage is supposed to be…for better or for worse.

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. Col 3:13

Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed. Prov 16:3

As I read the above verse, I said to myself…this is powerful, especially after what I shared with you yesterday about my struggle to lose weight. I am being shaken up by “the Spirit which dwells in me.” I am facing some hard truths.

I have not committed myself and my plans to Him in the change my eating habits area, nor have I made any real commitments or plans on losing weight. Then I came across this quote: “There are only two options regarding commitment. You’re either in or out. There’s no such thing as a life in-between.”

So I’m going to put myself “out there.” And…this is really scary for me, because if I fail…well, I’m going to be really embarrassed, feel really weak and look really daft.  I am committing… starting today, to change the way I eat and also to either walking or riding my exercise bike at least five times per week. Many of you may be wondering “what’s the big deal,” just do it.

It’s been months, but I will mention again some of my very ingrained fears. I know logically my fears aren’t rational at this stage of my life, yet my brain seems to be stuck in my thinking. I’m afraid of loosing too much weight because I’m afraid of sexual abuse. As I said, I completely understand this is not a rational fear at my age, and I even recognize that it stems from years of being sexually abused as a child. It still stands in my way. (Yet another area where I fully recognize more of my own weakness, fear and not and trusting completely).

The other reason I hesitate is because it means denying “me” of something I find very pleasurable. One of my favorite things I love is going out to eat. You may remember an earlier post when I shared that my parents literally locked up every bit of non-perishable food in the house. My brothers and I were not allowed after school snacks at all, ever. I held this against them for many years, but have long since forgiven them. I don’t know why (for sure) and at this point in my life I don’t need to know why. Please know that I’m not trying to make them look bad.

Food became something I was denied. Now I can have all I want. See how out of whack things got for me. I haven’t been denied for years yet the word diet to me, means denial.  I guess I can’t see the‘t’ at the end of die. Ugh! Get away from me Satan!

As I take this on, the rational side of me is saying to remember the following…there are many ways to do this. I desire to make a lifetime change, not just a change to get the pounds off, rather a lasting change. I can still eat most of the foods I enjoy, just eat them in moderation and throw in some exercise. I want it and want it NOW…. Did I just say that??  Forgive the digression!

Does anyone want to join me? We could support each other….if not, I hope you will be cheering me on from the sidelines. Thanks for indulging me these last couple of day!

I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day. Tim 1:12

I was reading in Matthew chapter four this morning and I was struck with the realization of how weak I am. I have not allowed Gods grace to be “sufficient for me.” This realization makes me very sad because I consider myself to be reasonably strong spiritually.

I’ve trusted Him to get me through some horrific circumstances in my life and I have allowed His grace to be sufficient for me in those circumstances. For example; my past drug and alcohol addictions, smoking, spewing offensive language from my mouth, and letting my temper escalate out of control. None of those things are a temptation for me anymore. Yet I’m still lacking in many areas and one that is on my mind daily is losing weight and taking my walks. I’m still not sure if I live to eat or eat to live. Why have I been able to give up horrible addictions and why am I still struggling with losing weight?

I know the answer; I just don’t like the answer! I am still struggling because I’m not giving it to God, and when I do ‘try’ and give it to Him, I’ve not been willing to leave it with Him. I take it back and I try to control my situation. I make lovely excuses and I listen to the ‘father of lies’. I try to justify my every action by saying things like “I haven’t had much today” or “I’ll make up for it tomorrow by taking in less calories” etc. etc., I’m sure, if losing weight is one of your battles, you are as familiar with the excuses as I am and have either heard them all or used them yourself at one time or another.

I’m so ashamed of myself! Look at the following scripture with me and you will see why. And while you’re at it consider (really) even being tempted the way Jesus was and honestly ask yourself what the results would have been for you in the same circumstances.

First temptation: Satan wants Jesus to doubt the Father. Matthew 4:1-10 Jesus was tempted by the devil. He had fasted forty days and nights and was very hungry. (I can’t imagine going a week without food, much less 40 days and nights.) Satan said to Jesus “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” And Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Second Temptation: Tempting him with the scriptures quoting from Ps 91:11-12.  Next the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written: “‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”  Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”  (I wonder… am I not testing God when I ask for strength to resist indulging in all the foods that are hardest for me to avoid, and afterward offer up feeble excuses as I’m eating them).

Third Temptation: Satan offered Jesus a shortcut, a way to the kingdom without the suffering. Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”  Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”  (That is how I act too often; I want the pounds to magically disappear without any work on my part to make it happen).

Jesus was tempted so that we could know that he is the Conqueror. He exposed Satan and his schemes and he defeated him. Jesus faced Satan as a Man; he could have used his powers by turning the stones into bread.

 If we want to share in his glory we must suffer. 1 Peter 5:10-11 And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. What a marvelous promise!

I (we) can overcome weaknesses and temptations, just as Jesus did. I may not enjoy it, but I know I can do it. I have to really WANT to do it and then act upon it. Studying these few verses have made me realize/admit that I want the “easy way out.” I recall hearing, “If it’s worth having…it’s worth working for.”

After the temptations, the angels came and took care of Jesus. When I am victorious in resisting temptations I don’t expect to have angels coming to me but what I can expect is encouragement from the Comforter” and “the Spirit of truth.”

I ask for your prayers. Pray that I will take the strength that God promises to give me and that I will quit listening to the lies from the deceiver that “I can’t do it”.

This has been a wonderful study for me. It’s so tough for me to face the truth sometimes. If you are struggling with difficulties in your life, I certainly encourage you to take another look at Matthew 4:1-11. Don’t just read it, get in there with Jesus, and get up on that mountain with him.

Mondays are very busy for me, I attend Ladies Bible Class and usually take Mom shopping and then I play Scrabble with her.

I am considering posting some of my favorite recipes on Monday, just to take some pressure off of myself. I love to cook and have been collecting cookbooks for about 40 years. I have over two hundred cookbooks and hundreds of loose recipes. Hope you don’t mind. Please let me know if you do. Bon Appétit!!

Black-Eyed Pea Salad

2 cans black-eyed peas, rinsed and drained

1 cucumber – finely chopped (I use English Cucumbers)

2 large tomato’s – chopped

1 red onion – chopped

2 serrano peppers, minced (or more if you like it hotter)

1 small bunch of cilantro – chopped

2 T. fresh lemon juice

Salt and Pepper to taste

Let the black-eyed peas drain for about 20 minutes after rinsing.

Mix chopped vegetables with black-eyed peas; add the juice of two lemons.

Refrigerate Salad overnight. Delicious

May be doubled or tripled for large crowds.

Gazpacho Salad

I usually double the ingredients for 8 servings

3 medium tomatoes, chopped

1 medium cucumber, chopped

1 medium bell pepper, coarsely chopped (I sometimes omit this)

1 small red onion, coarsely chopped

3 tablespoons cilantro, chopped

1/4 cup Seven Seas Red Wine Vinegar & Oil Salad Dressing (to coat salad)

Mix the following ingredients into the salad dressing:

1 ½ teaspoons sugar

1/8 teaspoon garlic powder

1/4 teaspoon ground cumin

1/8 teaspoon dry mustard

1/8 teaspoon chili powder

3/4 teaspoon snipped fresh basil (I sometimes omit this)

In a mixing bowl combine tomatoes, cucumber, green pepper, onion and cilantro.

For dressing, in a screw-top jar Seven Seas Dressing, sugar, garlic, cumin, mustard, chili powder and basil. Cover and shake well. Pour over vegetable mixture, toss lightly to coat. Cover and chill for 2 or 3 hours, stirring occasionally. Transfer to a salad bow. Garnish with avocado slices.

Both salads are very good. My favorite is the Gazpacho if I can find all fresh ingredients. Larry LOVES it too.

Sorry for all the spacing…it wasn’t like that when I pasted it into my post and no matter what I tried I couldn’t get rid of it. grrrrrrr!

Sunday, July 5^th will be our 29^th wedding anniversary. I’m pretty excited about that for several reasons.

Most of you know this is a second marriage for both of us. I was married sixteen years the first time around and Larry was married for five. I came into the marriage with three children and he with one. He had custody of his daughter Kathy, and she was barely two when he divorced. We were fortunate that our kids got along great and became very close in a short time. (Kim, who was 15 at the time, left to live with her dad) and my middle daughter Annette was born severely handicapped and by this time was living in a residential home.

The two marriages have been as different as night and day. I won’t go into details right now, I will just say, I am blessed!

We married in Mariposa California and honeymooned in San Diego and then spent one day bartering in the shops of Tijuana Mexico. Great fun! And we didn’t drink the water.

Some of my nephews had written “Just Married” and “For Sale Cheap” all over our Chevy Nova with white shoe polish. While driving down the San Diego Freeway a car full of Hispanics pulled up beside us waving their arms wanting to know “How Much for the car.” Funny thing is; they were serious!

I came into the marriage with a 48 Chevy Pickup with around 40,000 original miles on it and I could cook. I always tell people that’s why he married me. :)  He had a full time job at Merced Community College, a 62 Chevy Fleet Side Pickup and a 59 Corvette which he had plans on restoring, and a house. He held that same job, moving up the ladder for 35 years before retiring.

His house was in Atwater CA and we lived there about four years and moved Southward down the road to the small farming town of Le Grand CA. He sold his beloved Corvette for the down payment on the house.

Amy and Kathy (who are only 17 days apart in age) started sixth grade there and also graduated from High School there. We lived in Le Grand for seventeen years. Amy attended FSU and Kathy attended a short time at Merced Community College. She decided she didn’t want any more school so she came to work with me in the Print Shop. Not long after Amy graduated, both girls married. A few years later, Larry and I sold our ‘old home place’ which we dearly loved and moved Northward again to Merced. We lived there only six years. We both retired in 2004 and moved to Oklahoma in 2005.

We have had some occasional big bumps in the road, especially the first 10-12 years, but our love for each other and our determination to make our marriage work triumphed over the mistakes we made along the way. We have attended church from the day we married and still do. And boy, have we matured in that area too. Praise God!

All in all, our journey has been a very good one and as the song goes…it just gets “sweeter and sweeter as the years go by.”

I consider Larry to truly be a man after Gods own heart. He loves God; he loves me and our children. He ALWAYS tries to do the right thing. He is even-tempered, kind and gentle. I’ve never, ever felt more loved and more secure than I have with him. I know I can always count on him no matter what situation arises.

Yes….29 and counting and looking forward to whatever else God has planned for us.

I often tell people that we got married “the day after he gave up his independence.”

The ‘sparks’ are still flying.  

Marriage is somewhat like undertaking a Lego project without instructions. (from 1001 Quotes)