MuddyPuddles

As I’m nearing the completion of my book I’ve dredged up some miniscule memories that were tucked away in little crevices of my brain—specifically those mentioned in the title.  Though these may seem to be unrelated topics, generally speaking, they are all related in my mind because of their tie to previous experiences I’ve had.

When I was a young boy, whenever my stomach would ache a common question my mother would ask me was whether or not I had experienced a bowel movement.  I had no idea of what she was speaking.  I just kept thinking she was talking about some kind of ball.  (She should have asked if I did a #2.  Then I would have known what she was talking about.)  I always said, “No.”  I didn’t know what a bowel movement was and I figured if I’d had one I would have known about it.  Therefore, I didn’t have any bowel movements until I was several years older.  Before that I just went to the bathroom.    

When Jarod was playing optimist football in the fourth grade, the offensive line coach kept telling these 10 year olds that their responsibility was inside out.  What he was meaning by that was that if two defensive players were lined up across the line from them, their most important responsibility was to block the one that was lined up closer to the football—the “inside” man.  If there was no one inside, then he was to block the one on the outside—further away from the football.  Thus, their responsibility was “inside-out.”  For all they knew he could have been telling them that their responsibility was upside down and backwards.  They didn’t have a clue as to his meaning—ergo the blank stares.

I laugh at my previous lack of understanding of the terminology of A.S.A.P. (As Soon As Possible).  When I first started teaching in Arlington , the counselor sent me a note wanting some information ASAP.  Later she asked me why I hadn’t gotten it back to her.  I told her that I didn’t realize she needed it quickly.  She said, “I put ASAP on it.”  I said, “What does that mean?”  She went blank and then explained it.  I told her that we didn’t use that terminology on the farm.  Dad just said, “Hurry up.”  I had thought she was just making a joke about a sap or something.  I guess the joke was on me. 

When I was teaching eighth graders in an alternative school (where they sent kids who were kicked out of other schools) in Ft Worth, the principal, Steve Gay, taught me a valuable lesson.  It was prompted when he heard someone telling a student, “You know better than that!”  He said that because of the background of many of these kids—their horrible or non-existent home life—that they really didn’t know better on many things we had assumed they would.  No one had ever explained to them what it was or they had never considered how their actions impacted others in a negative way. 

The truth is we all have something, even what most people consider really simple things, that we don’t know about because we’ve had no occasion to know about them.  Thanks to the life experiences I’ve had and Mr. Gay’s instruction I was able to be a better teacher by making sure to point out simple things that I would not have mentioned otherwise.  I even try to do this today with my sweet grandson, Trapper.  I look for teachable moments to educate him about the “simple” ordinary things of life.  Then he will know about them and be able to make better decisions as a result.  And who doesn’t need that ability?  So the next time you see me doing something stupid, don’t assume I’m doing it on purpose.  Cut me some slack and love me anyway.  That’s what I really need.  God Bless, Dennis

I try to continue to pass the gift along. I cannot do it as eloquently as the person who helped me get saved, but because of his trying I try as well.  I care and that seems to be the ticket, Gentle caring not screaming, or admonishing, or tearing down someone already downtrodden.  Gentle kindness that is genuine in nature. That is what saved my life.     Cindi

I thank God for this great friend who has touched my life in such positive ways for such a long time.  I am so blessed to be able to say that I had the privilege to baptize her in Lake Arlington about 20 years ago after several weeks of Bible study.  Even though she is only about 10 years younger than me, she honors me by sending me a kind greeting each Father’s day (she says I’m a father figure in her life (unlike her other ones)).  She takes care of my rent houses and is one of those rare people who I trust completely in handling my money from rent houses (even if it was all cash).  She is a true blessing and I thank God for her---often.  I hope her story blesses you and helps you to be more effective and more loving as you reach out to the lost around you.  May God bless you as you do so.  Sincerely.   Dennis 

My mother’s mother’s uncle was named Bromo Quinine Crim.  The more “seasoned citizens” among my readers will recognize and remember this name “Bromo Quinine” as “the world’s first cold tablets”.  At least that was what was stated on the box in the late 1800’s and the early 1900’s.  Grove’s Laxative Bromo Quinine was also a treatment for “La Grippe,” which was the early 20^th century term for an influenza epidemic.

When my great uncle Bromo was about two years old he was deathly ill.  The only source of medical help in those days in the sparsely populated countryside of Kentucky was neighbors and the general store.  As the baby’s health deteriorated, his deeply concerned father, Jonathan Taylor Crim, was in the general store seeking remedies or suggestions to help save his dying child.  
A traveling “drummer” (salesman) was standing and listening to the plight of the father and child and introduced himself.  He said that he was not a doctor, but that he sold a line of drugs and that he might be able to help.  He inquired if he might see the child. 
So, he traveled home with the baby’s father and spent the night.  As soon as he got there, he started giving the baby the medicine, Bromo Quinine.  The baby seemed to improve.  He quieted, then slept. 
Just think about what must have been going through the minds of the parents during this ordeal.  Imagine how worried and fearful they must have felt when nothing had been working and the baby had been getting steadily worse.  And then to see the improvement.  Picture the hope that must have started creeping back in to their minds and the joy that crept in with the steady breathing of their sweet baby.    
The next morning, the drummer resumed his travel leaving behind an improved baby and a bottle of quinine and a rejoicing family.  They continued to give the medication and the baby rapidly got better.  When he regained his full health, Mrs Crim wrote, with joy, to the company explaining what had happened.  She wrote that since the baby was doing so well because of the medicine, she was giving him the name “Bromo Quinine Crim” to show her gratitude.  It had saved his life.

The company responded with excitement and for years, a miniature copy of the letter and a picture of Bromo made up the label on the Bromo Quinine bottles.  It wasn't a made up label---it was a true letter and story.

Originally the company had said they would take care of all future college expenses for Bromo and would also hire him as a company employee.  It didn’t all come to pass, however, because Bromo decided he would rather follow the family pioneer tradition of moving west.  He eventually had stops in Kaufman County and Parmer County (north of Muleshoe, TX) before winding up in Lubbock Texas and going into the grocery business.  And that’s the last I know of Bromo Quinine Crim.  What a unique story he had to tell as he journeyed through his life.  No one ever forgot his name.  God Bless.  Dennis

In August of 1973, Bonnie and I moved to Arlington where I began teaching history and Industrial Arts (shop) to eighth grade students in AISD.  After teaching for three years an opportunity opened up for me to try something else.  An Elder where I worshiped was a custom home builder in Arlington .  His business was rapidly growing and he thought it might be time to hire a field superintendent, so he made a proposal to me. 
His proposal would be that I would come to work for him for the summer on a trial basis.  At the end of the summer, if either one of us decided that it would not be a good fit, then I would go back to school and he would go back to managing his own construction.  But if we both liked the marriage, we would make it permanent.  That sounded like a good plan to me so we gave it a shot.  After three weeks we knew it was right so we made it “permanent”. 

Over the course of the next three years I supervised the construction of about one hundred homes.  It was a great learning experience which has impacted my life significantly since then.  In fact, that is where I learned most of what I know about all phases of construction.  I took advantage of the opportunity to continually ask the subcontractors why they did things the way they did.  I developed great relationships with them and they became my mentors.  It was wonderful.

Part of my job included taking care of any call back warranty service for the first year following the sale of the homes.  I didn’t particularly like this part of the job, but this responsibility helped me to become a better superintendent because it taught me some things to watch for during the original construction.  If you do things right the first time, it saves you a lot of work on the back end. 

Even though the people I was dealing with on this warranty work were the actual owners of the homes, in some ways I felt as if I were a landlord.  And this gave me half of an idea.  I got the other half of the idea from the fact that the house Bonnie and I had purchased shortly after moving to Arlington had increased about 15% per year for the first three years we lived in Arlington .  We had put five thousand dollars (borrowed from Dad) as a down payment when we purchased it and when we sold it three years later, we cleared fourteen thousand dollars. 

Being the ponderer and the analyzer that I am, I was thinking that if I had purchased five houses when I purchased that one, and if I had rented them out for the three years to cover the payments and expenses, then at the end of the three years I could have cleared forty-five thousand dollars instead of the nine thousand that I did.  Since I was only making eleven thousand per year at the time, forty-five thousand sounded like a small fortune.  So I decided to go for it---at least on a small scale of one rent house.  I figured that would be a good way to gage the feasibility of my plan. 

So, I bought and devoured every book I could find on rental property and I attended every seminar I could find.  I really wanted to learn.

Since I had no money (I had used all my cash as a down payment on another house for us), and I basically had no credit, I knew that I was going to have to be very creative to be able to purchase a rent house.  One really doesn’t have to have money if he has the right kind of knowledge and intestinal fortitude.  (I have actually experienced purchasing a house and putting money in my pocket that I got out of the purchase closing.  You can afford a lot of houses using that formula.) 

So I looked and looked and offered and offered and I finally purchased my first rent house.  It was scary to do that.  I kept thinking “What if I can’t make my payment?”  “What if the tenants tear up the house?”   All of these negative thoughts kept trying to get into my head, but I kept reviewing what I had learned and I decided to give it a try in spite of my fears. 

Sure enough, I made some mistakes with my purchase.  I paid too much for the house.  Because of the high interest rates (12-15%) of the day, the rent would not cover the note payment plus the taxes and insurance.  I should have bought an older house that would have cost quite a bit less but would have rented for only a little bit less.  Then I could have at least broken even each month on the cash flow.

In spite of these mistakes and others, I was able to survive.  And I was able to see without a doubt that if I did it better, I could make it work.  So, I set a goal that one year from that day I would own at least 10 rent houses.  At the time, that goal felt and sounded impossible to me.  It sounds the same as ten thousand houses do to me now.  It just seemed so unrealistic.  I had no money and was making less than a thousand dollars a month and Bonnie was staying home with the boys.  But I decided that this was what I wanted to set as my goal, so I started looking at houses.

I would call on newspaper ads every week.  I would call on realtors every week and spent a lot of time looking for “deals”.  Honestly, I felt like such a hypocrite.  I kept thinking to myself, “Who do you think you’re fooling?  You can’t do this.  You are just a scraping by worker with no money.”  I really didn’t think I could do it.  It just felt too big.

But instead of giving in and giving up, I employed my “what if” strategy.  I thought to myself (on a daily and sometimes hourly basis), “If you really thought you could do it (accomplish this goal of buying 10 houses in one year) what would you do next?”  Whatever the answer to that question was---I would do it.  Even while feeling like a total hypocrite, I would execute the next step.  It was such a horrible, uncomfortable feeling to make myself do it.  But I was willing to stretch my comfort zone rather than be guaranteed failure.

I would make ridiculous offers that would have the realtors shaking their heads.  One realtor told me, “You’re not going to find many sellers that will agree to those terms.”  I told her, “I just need one right now.”  And she would present the offer.  Most offers were rejected---most.  But then one came back that I could work with, so I counter offered.  Eventually we came to terms and I was able to purchase a second house.  It was scary to sign those papers, but I signed them anyway.  And now I had two. 

I continued on that way and eventually found a seven house package.  The seller was willing to carry the note so we worked out the deal.  That was a big one.  And I signed all those papers.  That made nine.  Then I found another house, worked out the negotiations and purchased it.  That made TEN.  Can you imagine how awesome I felt at the end of that year knowing that I had purchased ten rent houses?  It was incredible. 
The way that people looked at me had now changed.  The way that realtors looked at me had now changed.  The way that my friends looked at me had now changed.  And even the way that I looked at myself had changed.  I had credibility.  I had busted through the obstacles and self-doubts and fears and had accomplished my goals. 

I still made a lot of mistakes, but that was just a part of the journey.  I’m still making mistakes, and I will continue to make mistakes until the day I die.  But I didn’t make the biggest mistake of all.  And that mistake that I didn’t make was to let fear keep me from launching out toward a goal and a dream.  It’s like the old saying, “It is better for someone to try something and fail than it is for them to fail to try.”

I have purchased quite a few more houses since those early days.  I’ve also sold quite a few and have even lost a few through foreclosure (when the economy went into the tank during the 80s--- (that was grueling)).  But now, because of experience and knowledge about real estate and about life, and because of a much expanded comfort zone, not many things scare me as much as those early leaps of faith.  And because of my willingness to take those risks, my life has been much richer and fuller than it would have been had I stayed safe.  For that I’m thankful.

And now, my dear reader, I want to encourage you to dream a dream and to set a goal.  Do not let yourself give up easily on that goal but start taking baby steps toward that goal today.  Use that "as if" principal to move yourself forward.  Act "as if" you thought you could accomplish it.  And before you know it, you will.  Don't let this opportunity get away from you!  I mean it---for real.  Make it happen. 
May God bless you as you bravely move forward into the unknown.  I encourage you to not let fear be your deciding factor.  Trust in God and move ahead.  Sincerely,  Dennis

I’ve been doing a lot of writing lately about my family and the history that has taken place in relation to my family.  As I look back on the stories that I’ve heard and the stories that I’ve lived, it seems kind of surreal to me that these things all really happened.  It’s made me reflect a lot. 
I often think about how quickly another week-end gets here and it’s gone before you know it only to be replaced by another one so quickly.  Time just marches by so rapidly.

The school year starts and then all of a sudden it’s time for graduation and the summer break. 

I remember many years ago, when I was in my 20’s and 30’s, thinking about what it must feel like to be 50.  What would the world look like through eyes that have been around for half a century?  I remember thinking about how weird it was going to be to write down the date in which the year did not start with a 19, but with a 20.

I remember when my boys were babies that I wondered what they would look like and be like when they grew up.  And now I know.  Even now, I wonder what my grandson, Trapper, is going to be like as an adult.  I’m not ready to experience it, however, because I’m enjoying him so much in this time of his life.  But time does march on.

I know that soon, before I can even imagine it, that I will be lying down somewhere knowing that the end of my earthly existence---my last heartbeat---my last breath---silence--- is near.  At that point I expect peace---a peace that can’t be described---only experienced.  And then, silence.  And the world will carry on. 

We are truly here on this earth but a fleeting moment.  Our bodies are frail and vulnerable.  Such a microscopic sized bug can bring down the strongest of us so quickly and so completely.

Knowing that, and knowing how quickly our life passes by, it makes sense to value each day and each moment in that day.  It makes sense to love the ones we love and to even love the ones we don’t love.  It’s reasonable to sit still and to listen and to look and to appreciate the little special things that surround us each and every day.

And those things that give us grief---the nagging illnesses or aches and pains or financial struggles or relationship struggles---somehow we’ve got to find joy even in the midst of all those thorns.  Life is too short to do otherwise.  So enjoy the blessings that are ever-present around you.  And give God the glory for his good gifts.  May he bless you greatly as you do his will.  Dennis

We didn’t have permanent fences on the farm because we didn’t raise cattle year round and the fences would have cut out a lot of good farm land because of the need to turn the tractor around at the end of the rows, etc.  But we did use electric fences that we could put around a field of stubble or of wheat when it was young and green.  This allowed us to maximize the use of the land by running 50 or so calves on it for a few months and then taking them to auction to sell.  Then we would take down the fence to prepare for next years crop.

The electric fence was a single strand of wire that was connected from post to post (one half inch diameter metal posts about two or three feet long) which were driven into the ground.  A spring mounted insulator was connected to each post so that the wire could be connected to the posts without shorting out. 

The fence would have to start out at a power source and go out around the field(s) and then return to the source so that it would make a complete electrical circuit.  At the power source was a small box that was the “fence charger” which was plugged in to a 110 volt wall outlet.  The current that came out of the box was significantly smaller (and could even be adjusted on some boxes) so that nothing would be electrocuted.  It came out in pulses of about one pulse per second.  It was powerful enough to get your attention (and that of a 2000 pound animal). 

Since it was a single strand of bare wire, sometimes things could short out the electricity so that it failed to shock.  If one of the posts got twisted around so that the wire was touching it, it would short out.  If a big old tumbleweed came rolling up against the fence it would short out.  Or, if the wire broke from a calf running through it or because of a kink in the wire, it would break the circuit and therefore it would not create a shock.  Therefore, from time to time we had to “walk out” the fence to fix the problem.  Before you walked the fence you would need to unplug the charger because if the wire was broken you would have to grab the two ends and make a loop on one, stick the other wire through the loop and make a connecting loop to connect them back together again.  Then you would walk back and plug in the charger again.

One day dad noticed that the fence wasn’t working.  So, he unplugged the charger and started walking.  He finally found the problem about a half mile from the house. 

While he was busy out walking the fence, mom was busy with the household chores.  While she was taking the trash out to the burn barrel, she noticed that the fence charger had accidentally come unplugged.  So, being the helpful wife that she was, she plugged it back in at just about the same time that dad had grabbed both ends of the broken wire. 
Dad made really good time in getting back to the house.  He let mom know, in no uncertain terms, that he had unplugged the charger ON PURPOSE and needed it to STAY UNPLUGGED because he was FIXING THE BREAK.

Through the years I’ve probably seem mom laugh about that incident at least 100 times or more.  For some reason, however, dad never did laugh all that much.  I wonder why. 

I get a charge out of this memory every time I think about it.  Now, you can too.  God Bless.  Dennis

And that chore was Jarod’s job of emptying the various trash receptacles in the house.  It’s amazing how many small trash “cans” we had in the house.  There were trash cans in each bedroom, in each bathroom and in the kitchen.  There was also a larger one in the garage.

Each day, Jarod was to empty out the trash cans that needed emptying and put all the trash into a trash bag or into the large trash can located in the garage.  When that can was full it was to be tied up and taken to the street for garbage pickup. 

After a few days of this, it seemed to Jarod that it just wasn’t reasonable to have to empty a trash can that only had a little bit of trash in it.  After all, if there was plenty of room for more trash, why did it have to stay totally empty all the time.  So Jarod came up with a plan to help determine if a trash can did in fact need to be emptied.  Armed with that plan, he came to me to ask if we could implement that plan.

The plan was that if a trash can was less than half full, it shouldn’t have to be emptied.  That seemed reasonable to me and I didn’t really care if the can was completely empty as long as there was always room to throw your trash when necessary and as long as he was being “responsible”.  So, I agreed to Jarod’s plan. 

That was the last time I saw the bottom half of a trash can on a regular basis.  From that day forward, anytime the trash would get over the halfway mark, Jarod would take out the largest item or item’s to help lower the level of the trash.  If that did not suffice, he would then become a human trash compactor.  He would put his foot into the trash can and compress the trash down below the mid level mark.  Sometimes he had to put all his weight into it and even jump up and down to complete the job. 

Being the rule keeper that he was, he complied with the letter of the law and thereby provided us with half full trash cans all over the house.  In addition to that, Jarod developed a couple of useful skills along the way.  He became quite good at estimating volume and at deciphering fractions.   He knew just what size object he would have to remove to get to the necessary one-half mark.  Why settle for learning one skill if you can master three.   It was a productive venture.

When the boys were in about the 1^st and 6^th grade they had a daily ritual of coming home after school and turning on the television and watching cartoons or kid shows.  Sometimes they would go outside to play for awhile but would come back in and watch TV again.

As the evening would wear on there was a struggle that would develop around several of our daily rituals.   It was difficult to get the boys to do their homework.  Very little conversation took place during the evening meal.   It was hard to get the boys ready for and actually into bed.  It just wasn’t a positive environment around our house in the afternoons and evenings.

It was common for tensions to rise and frustrations to set in.  The environment just wasn’t conducive to effective living and to good family relationships.  Something needed to be done.

We decided that the television was the common denominator to the problems.  Everything seemed to revolve around our eyes and our minds being glued to the set.  Therefore, we made a rule that from Sunday night at 6:00 p.m. the television went off and that it couldn’t come on again until Friday after school was out. 

This felt pretty drastic, but we decided that we would try it for a week or two to see if it made any difference in our lives.  Also, we decided that it would be good if one of us (meaning Bonnie, the better story reader, usually) would read a story every night at bedtime.  The boys enjoyed her story reading and this would make it a little easier to adapt to the new TV rule.

It was really hard that first few days without the TV.  We had really gotten spoiled with the “no effort required” evening activities.  It just seemed so natural to just walk in and turn on the TV.  But, we stuck to our guns and left the TV off. 

The results were incredible.  Now, without the “one-eyed monster” to entertain them, the boys started playing outside more.  It took less of an ordeal to get them to do their homework.  We actually started having conversations around the dinner table.  The boys were much more motivated to get their pajamas on and get into bed so that they could hear the next chapter of the book that Bonnie was reading.  It was wonderful.

It soon got to be that the boys, even on the nights when TV was allowed, if given a choice, would choose to listen to Bonnie read the next chapter in the book rather than watching some show on the television set.  It was go great to hear them in there laughing or being intrigued by the turn of events or asking questions about what might happen next.  It was a powerful thing to behold and one of the wisest things we ever did.

When my oldest son, Jeff, was about 10 years old, Bonnie and I took the boys on a ski trip to Ruidoso, New Mexico .  We had been skiing before and Jeff had taken lessons and I had worked with him some, so he knew how to ski and get on the chair lifts and all those other basics one needs to know when hitting the slopes.  Jarod, on the other hand, at age 5 was experiencing his first outing.

At that time, all skiers had to start at the base where a two person chair-lift could take them up the mountain where there were several options for more chair-lifts that could take them even further up the mountain.  Since it was at Christmas time, the lines at the bottom lift were fairly long.

To make the line move more rapidly, the staff encouraged people who were skiing single (without a partner) to yell “single” so that they could be paired up with someone else who was also “single” so they could ride the chairlift together.  This was oftentimes a great advantage for the single skier because he had the opportunity to legally cut in line for the good of all. 

Since I was there with both my boys and Bonnie wasn’t too interested in skiing that day, I told Jeff that I needed to help Jarod get on and off the lift and that he needed to yell out “single” so that he could ride with someone else.  Jeff wasn’t too keen on the idea of riding up with a stranger, but after some gentle prodding he reluctantly hitched a ride.  I told him to wait for us at the top. 

When Jarod and I arrived at the top we found Jeff waiting as agreed.  To my pleasant surprise, Jeff’s first words were (with enthusiasm) “man, that guy was interesting!”  “Really,” I said.  “Yeah, he was interesting!”

My first thought was “what could someone say on a 5 minute chairlift ride that would make a 10 year old boy think he was interesting?”  So, I asked Jeff to tell me what was said.  After a brief explanation of the ride, it dawned on me that this was a perfect teaching opportunity.  So, we spent the next few minutes observing (wisdom) what had taken place and then capitalizing on it for use in our own lives.

What had taken place was that Jeff’s “new best friend” had asked Jeff a few questions.   He had asked Jeff where he was from and how old he was.  He had asked him how long he had been at the ski slopes and how many days he was going to be here.  He had asked him about which ski run was his favorite.  He had asked him about his family and about his favorite sports.  In short, all the conversation was about Jeff.

So, I reaffirmed to Jeff that he thought this guy was interesting, “right”?  Jeff said “yes.”  And I pointed out that all the questions the guy had asked were about you, “right”?  Jeff said “yes.”  And I pointed out the human nature in us that makes us believe that people who are interested in us are interesting to us.  And a light bulb came on in Jeff’s head.

I asked Jeff if he wanted people to think he was interesting.  He said, “yes.”  Then what you need to do is to ask the people about themselves and they will see you as an interesting person.  The light bulb brightened.  We then set about picking out about 5 or 6 questions that Jeff could ask each of the new best friend strangers he would be riding with so that he would be prepared to ask them the questions. 

From that moment on, Jeff’s outlook on the day changed.  Originally he was planning to ride the chairlift so he could ski down the mountain.  Now, his purpose was to ski down the mountain so he could ride the chairlift.  It was great to watch him eagerly yelling out “single” and then to watch him in line as he anxiously waited for the chair ride to start.  Then he would start pummeling his new companion with questions.  It was great!  He ended the day feeling very interesting indeed.

Now, as a grown man, Jeff is considered a very interesting person by many people.  Bonnie and I receive compliments about him all the time.  And, periodically, I gratefully think back to that friendly stranger on that two man chairlift on the mountain.  And I thank him for being such an "interesting" person.  I'm sure he doesn't have a clue about how much impact his friendliness has made in Jeff's life.  It was a defining moment.  May God Bless him and May God Bless you.  Have an awesome week!  Dennis