Putting our kids in private school and other news

So I know we planned to be far far away from Las Vegas about six months ago, but it seems that the Lord really likes us here. I have discovered a few desert blooms in my life during the past few months that make living here a little less prickly.

First, I’m teaching musical theater at Hollywood Kids Academy here in Henderson. We’re doing Seussical and I’m working with 8-10 years olds directing and absolutely loving it. Harry, June and Georgia are all in different productions there. This is delightful and so much fun for our family.

Second, we have officially enrolled our kids in the new private David O. McKay Academy opening two campus’ here in Las Vegas this fall. Our kids are slated for the Henderson campus and all four will be at the same school. It’s an LDS-based learning program but is open to any and all, and thanks to Nevada the state will give us vouchers to cover most of the tuition costs. If I can get lucky I’ll be able to work there and spend all day long with my children, which sounds sarcastic in my head but in reality I enjoy working in their schools as much as I can.

Third…hmm. Um, oh! I got Lasik surgery last week and I am a see-er! I am not big on exclamation points but I feel like I’ve had a miracle. Those of you who have experienced the magic of Lasik know what I’m talking about here. Not even 24 hours after my surgery I was seeing 20/15 which is better than 20/20. This is a game changer. True, it’s the first time I’ve gone without mascara since I was 11 and yes, people keep asking me if I’m “sick” because with my white eye lashes my eyes basically disappear into my head without makeup, but I don’t even care (Jason is really ready for me to put my face back on though, I think he’s a little disconcerted by the whole no-eye-makeup wife bit).

I was driving down the road a few weeks ago, praying to myself, and asking Father why he loves the desert so much? I’ve done the Middle East, Sinai, Israel, it all looks like Las Vegas. Why not Washington or Oregon where there’s water and people don’t die if they stand outside in July?

It was kind of a hypothetical question but I was at a stop light and had a pretty good view of the barren mountains in the distant. I pondered while waiting and right before the light turned green I heard my head say, “Because in the desert, you need me more. In the desert, you remember me…”

It’s true. I need faith to live here in the desert, and not faith that we’ll move away, faith that we can live. Here. This place. Maybe for five years, maybe forever, but faith that He will place us in the best place for our family to learn what we’ve got to learn to get home to that non-desert in the sky.

I really hope there are lots of trees in Heaven.

Family Cloth? Really Annie?

I love planning for the Zombie apocalypse. It’s become my fourth favorite hobby (right after eating, sleeping and sewing). And just when I think I’ve got every scenario nailed down and have heard every suggestion for TEOTWAWKI, something new crops up.

Enter Family Cloth. Worst name for reusable toilet paper ever. Thank you, Pinterest.

The idea is simple. Sam’s Club has been looted, the power grid is zapped, some magical nuclear blast has shorted all our electrical components destroying them for-e-ver and suddenly…you need to go number two. I don’t know about you, but upsetting situations tend to have that effect on me.

And that’s when it hits you: You’re on your last roll of toilet paper. Not only are you out of TP but you’ve thrown the last nine years of phone books away because Google supposedly had your back. The hard truth is plainly evident: Google is not going to have your back at this moment.

This is where Family Cloth–henceforth and forever referred to as Toilet Cloth in my world, or TC–gently swoops in to save the day.

Toilet cloth is a set of double ply fabric, preferably double knit cottons like T-shirts, that you can use again and again and again to keep that backside clean.

I’ve stressed about this bathroom dilemma and even gone so far as to print out how-to-dig-a-septic-system for my Apocolypse Now binder. But short of ordering a set of the squeezy bottles to hose down with I haven’t been able to fix the immediate problem of keeping’ it clean in my mind.

But TC (see how easily it just rolls off the tongue?) fixes this problem permanently. One box of pool shock will give you about 10 years of TC water, bye bye ecoli and other fatal diseases that come from poor wiping habits after the power shuts down and the toilets stop flushing.

And if you think I’m crazy, do a little research. Not only is there a literal movement (bad pun, I know) of people–like at least nine families–who are already using this method in their homes, but apparently other countries don’t all share our Charmin toilet paper customs. There are some pretty interesting toilet paper-free methods out there when you get down to the nitty gritty.

In all honesty, no I have not tried this out nor do I intend to unless the need actually arrises. However, having 70+ double knit double ply pieces of toilet cloth sewn and stashed away in the garage, along side a box of pool shock, gives me serious peace of Apocolypse mind.

I have a six month supply of the paper stuff but my backyard is simply not big enough to bury it if there’s ever a disaster here in the Las Vegas cement wilderness. We will be happy to have something refreshing and reusable, believe me.

Toilet Cloth. It’s a thing.


PS – I’m no longer on FB. It started as a name problem but after a two month break from my account I logged back in and disabled it completely. It’s a bit of a pain sometimes but for the most part, I feel kind of free. So if you’ve looked for me there in the past few months I’m not dead, not MIA, just…done. If you still want to keep up with me, put your email into the box up to your right and my monthly blog posts (that’s about how often I write these days) will come straight to your archaic email account. You can also share them on FB if you feel so inclined and we have mutual friends who might care. Not that I’ll ever know…