The mysteries and miracles of nature at our cabin

When you get to be my age, acquiring things for yourself isn't important any more. You want the things you buy to bless the lives of your posterity. That is why we bought our cabin.

A few years ago, a long held dream came true for us. My husband and I found a cabin in the mountains surrounded by trees, lots of trees and all the mysteries and miracles that you can only find in the mountains.

Most of our dates before we married were in the woods. Being in nature speaks to us and nourishes our souls. We wanted to pass this legacy on to our children. We wanted all our posterity to have a place to go . . . a place where the wind in the pines would speak to them . . . a place where the warm sunlight on their shoulders would warm them  . . . a place where they could be still and know that God loves them; their private sacred grove.

The other day I was up at the cabin changing the sheets and towels. After I took a walk up to the pond I saw my daughter Arianne walking out of the woods with her five young children around her. The baby was strapped to her body and two preschoolers were each holding one of her hands. The older brother and sister were skipping around her. They had bags full of mushrooms, bark, leaves and bugs to study  . . . and big smiles on their faces.

And in my heart I thanked God for this place, for His love, for my children and grandchildren and the elegant gift of life. 


Griffin is Born Today

Griffin, my newest grandson, was born today. He weighed in at 9 pounds 10 ounces and is 21 inches long. He is healthy and well. When my daughter called me with the news in the middle of the night I could hear Griffin's newborn baby sounds all the way from Pennsylvania. I felt so deeply grateful that he had arrived safely and all was well with his mother. I couldn't go back to sleep because I kept thinking about the miracle of him.

Today I also went to the viewing of a beautiful little girl who died just days before she would have been born. Seeing the grieving mother, father, brothers and sister deepened my profound awe at this fragile gift of life.

Our lives, no matter how brief, have great meaning. Part of that meaning is great joy at birth and profound grief at death. We can't have one without the other. So today we celebrate the value of each soul and the quiet dignity of all life. Only through pain do our hearts open to the wondrous gift of life.

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Happy Birthday Daniel!

Grandma Baadsgaard
Happy Birthday Daniel.
I love your big blue eyes and chubby cheeks.
I couldn't help putting a little Halloween into your first birthday poem.

 When Daniel turned one
He kibbled off his thumb
Because he thought it was a piece of cheese

“Dear Daniel,” said his mom
With a bit of alarm
“Now I’ll have to sew it back on.”

So she got out her thread
While he jumped on the bed
But all she could find was bright purple
But Daniel wasn’t glum
Cause now his thumb tasted like plum
When she finally sewed it back on.

But soon off it popped
Though a bit of a shock,
But Daniel didn’t mind you see.
He fancied a new flavor to please

“Dear Daniel,” said his dad
Though he wasn’t mad
“Now I’ll have to nail it back on.”
So he got out his hammer
and started to stammer,
“Son, I think you’ll like this new cure.
I’ll make sure that thumb is secure.”

But before he knew it, Daniel blew it
Right onto the birthday cake.
“Oh for goodness sake,”
Said his sisters Emily, Libby and Sandy
Now isn’t this just a dandy.
Cake with thumb frosting, oh please.
We'll just add our fingers and sneeze.

Then Andrew added his pinkie
And said, "This is stinky.
Fingers and thumbs aren't for eating you goofs
It's time to stop this spoof
So he pulled out the fingers and thumb
And said, “Now I’m not so dumb
But don’t you think super glue would do
So we can stop this silly rue?”

 So they glued on fingers and Daniel's thumb
Then ate a mighty birthday cake sum

Of one-year-old birthday wishes and dreams
Where nothing is quite what it seems.


Happy 3rd Birthday Rylan!


                                                             Rylan the Pirate


Grandma Baadsgaard

Happy 3rd  Birthday Rylan. I love you so very, very much.


There’s a red brick house in a Pennsylvania town

Where Rylan the three-year-old pirate runs around.

He might be sailing on the kitchen chair ship

Or growling and snarling his big scary lips.


But if he can manage it, he’ll head to the shore

Cause that is where there is treasure galore

He takes out his shovel and digs down deep

To find lost jewels and gold coins to keep.

 Then into a ship with a scary pirate flag

For sailing and parlaying with rich old bags.

For finding lots of loot is always a snap

If you happen to find an old treasure map.
 But first you need a patch over your right eye

Then you heave a sigh and wave good-bye.

For a pirate’s life is a heave-ho-and-groan

And you spend a great deal of time alone.


Then night comes and it grows dark outside

So you find your mommy, your blanket and hide.

For when you get lonely you just must confess

Having a snug place is great more or less


But in the morning with the new sunlight

You find you’re brave and feel just right.

For when you’re a pirate, you travel far and wide

But you always come back when it’s dark outside.


For treasure by any measure is love you see

And there’s no amount of gold that could ever be

Better than a home where there’s lots of love

And a mom and dad with lots of bear hugs.
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Fall Break 2013

Fall Break this year included rock hounding at Topaz Mountain,
4-wheeler rides to pole heaven
and nature hikes at the cabin.
I hope heaven smells like autumn in the Rocky Mountains. 
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Sunday at Grandma's House

I love Sunday evenings at my house.
When I was younger, I used to take my children to Grandma's house after church.
Now both grandmas are gone and I'm the one living at Grandma's house.
My children gather in the living room and talk to each other
while my grandchildren explore in the backyard
or play games in the playroom
or read behind the couch
or look up at the sky.
I'm the one snuggling on the couch with newborn baby in my arms.

Sunday evening is sacred family time.
A warm way to end a blessed day.