Sunday, March 27, 2011

It's Changing

Yes, I changed my blog background again. And I shall probably continue to do so on a semi-regular basis, it's like moving furniture or changing your clothes. I really like this one so it might stay for a while, we shall see. 

Guitar sitting for my brother, not an unpleasant responsibility.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Frightfully Over Due

So I have been highly neglectful of my postings. I really ought to say something about exceeding 1100 views, but I have no words on that topic. The two weeks has been pretty crazy lot's of unplanned traveling to Philly and NY. It's the first time I'd ever traveled that far north and ironically the first thing I really noticed is that in all the states I've been to from Georgia all the way to New York wherever there's wet lands there's phragmites. Anyhow today is the closest thing to a real day off that I've had in a while. Yesterday we stopped at Walmart, and today was another gardening day. First snow peas they live in the back row, I built the first layer of trellis for them to climb and hopefully I'll be posting pictures of their little sprouting faces by the end of next week. While I was cleaning out all the dead leaves and throwing them behind the shed I came across this old tub we had previously turned into a pot and  thought it would do lovely for the spinach we had gotten so I cleaned it up, and I must say I'm rather happy with it.
I have been working on my corset a little though I can't do much more at this point, not until I get my boning. So this is my current project! Yes it's a pillow case and it is going to be a shirt. I hope to get it finished successfully by the 15th so I can wear it to the John Mark Mcmillian show that I'm going to see with a friend, I'm dreadfully excited!
I'll write another later but for now this'll have to suffice.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


Fearless Walking Companion
Duties shall be comprised primarily of long walks through lovely wooded areas.
Dangers that require fearless and undaunted behavior include: Root infested paths that have an appetite for feet. Curtains and fountains of wild roses (not as pleasant as they sound). Bogs that smell of sulfur and the rotten flesh of past victims. Sweetly humming clouds of vicious insects. Eerie grave yards and their occupants. Possible encounters with bridge trolls. The dangerous sinking tunnels of the ROUS’s ( also known as Nutria). The shrieks of ravenous dragons disguised as large carnivores birds. The inky pools, wherein the notorious creature of the black lagoon found it’s beginnings. And above all the dreaded agents of the EPA.
There shall be no unsupervised leaving of the trails. (Experience has proved extracting a person from the mud is not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon {yes it will take all afternoon}).
Swashbuckling is not a requirement, mostly because I have no idea what a swash is or how to buckle it. However, skill with a blade and or other weaponry would be most useful, just the other day I encountered a dandy young lion  which I quickly subdued with my trusty shillelagh. ( He left on peaceful terms ).
A good imagination is an absolute requirement for placement in this position.
Please contact me for more information.
Loriana Johnson
P.S. If anyone has experience in swashbuckling I would be delighted to learn.

Monday, March 21, 2011

The Wings to the Woods

I occasionally pass the airport on the way to visit family. It always strikes in me such great and powerful emotions, some of fear, some delight and still others mystery; but mostly fear. I like to think of it as the wood between the worlds, and once there, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to. It is a destination of limitless possibilities. Each time I see it, it strikes wonder but more importantly fear inside my heart as if there's something I can not escape, it's tied up between my future and my past.

" the beauty of the city at night is the light of the fallen stars"

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Tea and Sticheries

Don't worry! My High School English teacher gave me permission to make up words, let me define the word Stichery or in its plural sticheries.

Sticheries- All things to do with sewing and other needle work.

So as you can see, I've had a small tea party with my mother this afternoon. She is wonderful and we had a splendid time. I'm presently planing another to be held over spring break,  it will be followed by ren fair costume designing sessions. :D

"There's blood on the promenade!"

Monday, March 14, 2011

"Dance over my agenda and Rain on my Parade"

I wanted to wear a dress today but I walked out the door and I changed my mind! I'm still waiting for word from China about my teaching position, I'm willing to follow the Lords leading, but I pray he's not leading me away just yet

Speaking of the the cold this is the giant fuzzy purple infinity scarf that I made. I've been listening to John Mark McMillian most of the morning, and you'll never believe how clean my room is, so I won't bother telling you. I'll take pictures later (that's what I spent most of last night doing).
 I need to study for psych when I get home but I'd really rather not. I'd much rather finish organizing two problem spots in my room and play my guitar. I need to design a purple or blue bracelet for a little girl in China who I've been writing to and I need to write a letter to my adopt a child from Albania, I keep forgetting.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


I'm contemplating friendship, i'll have to write about it but not tonight.

Slow Goin

I've been slowly working at that bracelet and I think I'll have the one side finished by the end of the night. Have to leave for youth group soon, an old member is coming back tonight and everyone is very excited.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Jewelry? ... NO!

Though not as amazing as this tatting storage box. I'm fairly happy with it. I was looking to buy one at an antique store to keep my tatting. But for the present I have removed my bracelets and am now using my grandmothers old jewelry box.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Thrift Store Finds

I am happy to say that my bag of tatting was still there when I arrived at school this morning, everything in tact. So after school I wanted to go to the antique store in Milton as I haven't been there in quite some time. However, we wore ourselves out long before we got there in a sweet thrift store, where I found the following.

2000 yards of Hot pink Mohair $10 (I'm very excited to make a sweater out of this) originally $25 a cone

333 yards of tess' designer yarns white microfiber hand died ribbon $3 originally $20

Three lovely flowered materials (future summer shirts and skirts)

An old mettle sewing machine accessory box soon to be lined with felt and perfect for storing my tatting

And a free basket  that'll soon be fixed up to my loverly red bike handles

Monday, March 7, 2011


So when I got home from school today I decided to work on the bracelet I mentioned in my last post as had gotten more completed and was beginning to be very excited. To my horror I discovered that when hastily collecting my things before rushing out of class at 3:55 I had forgotten to pick up my little bag which contained my cameo bracelet 3 or 4 other pendant pieces, my size 10 thread tatting needle and my two smallest crochet hooks. I am praying that they will still be there in the morning. In the mean time I worked on my size 80 thread, I think it'll be a book mark. P.S. that's a logistic function note card I found in an odd drawer and a British penny my brother gave to me ten or so years ago.

Work in Progress

I found this cameo pendant in a box of junk jewelry that was marked ten cents a piece I decided to get it despite the attachment being broken off, as a liked the face on it, often time I find cameo's rather severe and unattractive. It's been lying in a box of other such finds for a bout a year now and last friday I finally designed a bracelet to go with it. It'll need a good amount of starching and laying out before it's presentable but I must admit I am rather excited about it.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Loss Thereof

           I shall always remember the seen from little women where the professor advises Joe to only write about what she knows. This ran through my mind more then once when I was assigned the writing of a short story (a few years back now). At any rate, the following is what I cam up with. Please comment and tell me what you think of it.

The Loss Thereof 

I want to tell you a secret. A secret, mind you, that I share with very few people. A secret that has shaped my life. A secret concerning love and the loss thereof.
Thinking back, I remember ... I remember when I first met Him. I was young then, living far from here on the east coast of the U.S.A., where the waves practically crashed on my doorstep. 
When I was young, I was quiet and shy. I liked people, I had friends, but I wasn’t a social butterfly, flitting from person to person. I went to a small high school, with a student body of only 377. I had plenty of friends there, but I was still quiet. He was in all my classes but one. He had a quiet, gentle, friendly personality. He never picked on me or made fun of me and sometimes He even admonished the other boys for doing so.
But being the “Shy Person,” I hardly ever talked to Him. This you would probably, correctly, conclude was my downfall. We could have been great friends, maybe more, but for my unending stupidity.
I remember English class the most. I was intrigued by His reading, as well as the glance he would occasionally cast my way, lifting his dark eyebrows under His sandy brown hair which always seemed just a little too long and scraggly.
From the deepest parts of me I longed to talk to Him; I wanted to know who He was, what He liked, what He thought about things, important things like God, life, literature, people, politics, stereotypes, music, death. I wanted to know everything, I had never met His equal and that engaged my mind through the countless hours of the day. All of my friends were pretty shallow anything they felt deeply about was hidden behind an iron curtain, I could see through those deep expressive eyes and the little He said that the oceans of His mind were endless. I wanted so badly to jump into those boundless depths; drown there, be engulfed by and saturated in His thoughts.
He was always talking to this other girl though: Shoe was loud, crazy, excited, and creative, ALL the time. THey made up some of the craziest most random things together. I wanted to join them in there creations of worlds and languages, but I never felt there was a place for me, so I sat and watched from afar. I almost envied that girl, wishing and wanting to be like her. It took me many years to realize that what I wanted then and many times since, was not to be like her or anyone else, but rather to be seen and valued for who I really was, as they were.
The following year, I had no classes with Him; I was really sad, all summer I had looked forward to being in class with Him and now He was absent from my life. But I kept busy with school. Each day I would see him in the halls laughing with my friends conversing with my enemies, smiling for no particular reason and never once looking at me. 
As the weeks passed on I began to think, the wheels of my mind slowly turning. I watched Him and found out what classes He had;  Algebra II, Biology across the hall from my Geometry class, Computer II and Health. As I scanned my next semester schedule a white dove of a thought flew into my mind, He hadn’t had World History I and neither had I. 
Next semester as eagerly walked into my fourth period class I saw Him, just exactly as I had imagined. In that class we had assigned seating and my name was put on the chart right next to His. Call it what you will, providence or fate; it made no difference in my mind, I was just happy to be at His side. Being the “Shy Person” I was, though, I was more than willing to let the other three at my table do all the talking, I simply listened. I liked to hear the sound of His voice, it was low but not deep, and seemed at time melodic. I liked listening to Him talk, although I will say my History grade didn’t like it very much.
Most of my life I had been talked over, and as the time passed I came to accept it and I stopped talking altogether; now I simply listened, sitting, invisibly in my corner of doubt, waiting for someone to recognize my significance and worth in life.
That year February fourteenth fell on a Friday. As I was leaving school all the happy fantasies for the day melting away, my friend excitedly called me to her locker. Inside lay a short stemmed, fully bloomed, blood red, rose. No note, no sign of who had left it. But I knew, I knew who it was from, not only in my mind, but even more importantly I knew it in my heart. It was Him. My friend was of course, thrilled, but she wasn’t so sure I was right. That didn’t matter though, because I knew ...
As the months past their affinity grew, like a weed! I was upset, envious, I even felt some exasperation towards her. I knew what I was feeling was wrong, that it wasn’t her fault. But I still felt those feelings; I couldn’t seem to help it.
  “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” This is what love truly was and I had to constantly remind myself of this, day and night. Then one morning as I walked the beach at sunrise talking to God; I lodged my complaints, and cried a sea of tears. Slowly I felt something like love and comfort seeping deep into my soul, there in that place of solace and security the Lord spoke to my heart. It was at that point I realized something, it was at that point that I realized something about my heart and my soul, and I decided that it was time for me to give him up. He held and probably always will hold a special place in my heart, but it wasn’t like He belonged to me! What was my problem, I mean, gosh, after all it was his life. His life was a tapestry, He’d begun weaving her thread in shortly after I had attempted to weave in my own. I didn’t belong there though; I didn’t fit into his picture. Remorse filled my being. So I quickly and painfully unraveled my heart. But no matter how hard I tried, never could I afterwords get that thread back into the place it was supposed to be in my heart. It just hung limp, nearly lifeless, waiting to be put back where it longed to be. The opportunity never came.
The next year I decided to go on a mission trip, I would enjoy the work, and I loved to travel. When I got to the first planning meeting, I was the only one there, even the team leader was late. Anguish once again reached out to strangle my heart with its iron grip. I had wanted so badly to get out of this small town, even if only for a little while, to get away from everything and everybody, not to mention the memories. But if I was the only one there; there would be no trip. My heart sank. Then just as I was about to leave, I heard foot steps in the hall and the rattling of keys in the pocket of a pair of Khaki pants. My stomach wrenched, landing uncomfortably in my throat. It was Him! I quickly rationalized myself out of this thought, it was a 376 to 1 chance that it was Him. Who was I kidding. But to my utter astonishment and delight He walked through the door and said. “Hey what’s up, sorry I’m late.” Two people still wasn’t enough though. But as time progressed more people joined our group. Each one, purposed to fit perfectly into our picture. my best friend was one of the fourteen others that went on the trip; she helped me through that adventure good times and bad. And trust me He didn’t always make it easy. He was one of those really funny, slightly goofy guys who you couldn’t help but liking. He wasn’t loud and obnoxious like other guys. He was confident, sure of Himself, He didn’t need to prove anything to anybody. But I had given up! That was the end of the story the last page and I would not be permitted to write on the cover.                                                            ********** That trip changed my life; forever! Everything I experienced changed my heart and my mind. I was a new person. A man once told me that people are like sponges, it isn’t until you get squeezed that you find out what is truly inside you. I got squeezed while I was there, it wasn’t pretty and it didn’t feel good, but it needed to happen. I got rid of most of my junk; my worldly baggage came off and there was finally room for God to do his will in my life. While we were there I learned a lot from my friends, He changed my views on a lot of things, He opened my eyes to new horizons. He treated me as a friend. Most of my life when a guy was nice to me it meant he wanted  something that didn’t belong to him. This was different something I needed. We made jokes and talked about all kinds of things. He encouraged me not to just stop talking and sit invisibly in my corner of doubt. He pushed me to speak out and to talk louder, He and my friend even made me sing, something I never did. Having lived under the shadow of my friends with beautiful voices I didn’t even think I could. These two weren’t my crutches though; I didn’t need them to walk. They taught me how to walk alone as I do today.                                                              *********** It was great, I had an amazing time while I was gone, and I gained Him as a friend. But the tides of life were rapidly changing and they soon carried him off the shores of my life, like driftwood, the waves unwary of His significance. When we returned I didn’t see Him much, we didn’t have any of the same classes and I rarely saw Him in the halls. Graduation came to soon; and the fateful day He left our small town for good. He moved to Indiana with his family and that was the last I ever saw of Him. That adventure is still in my mind though, clear as if it was yesterday.
That trip is what brought me here to Africa so many years later, to do the work of God among his children. Don’t get me wrong, I still dream of Him sometimes, I still wake up in the early hours of the morning wondering what my life might have been, if I hadn’t been the “shy person”. But that is another story and I guess I’ll never know the ending to it. 
“Is that it!?” Asked my sweet little African daughter Constancia (she was almost thirteen).
“Yes” I said
“I thought you said this story had a happy ending,” she replied with a frown.
“But it does!” I replied, smiling widely.
Constancia looked confused.
“You are my happy ending” She looked up at me and we both giggled, we were happy.
“But why did you tell me the story?”
“I told you my story, Constancia, because you remind me of myself, and I don’t want you in your quietness to make the mistakes I made. Even though God worked it out for good and I am now happy, my life could have been much easier and I could have been much happier along the road.”
“But what happened to Him?” Constancia asked in a curiously concerned tone.
“I don’t really know; last I heard He was in Russia.”
“Did He ever marry her?” Constancia asked
“No He never marri ...”
I never got to finish though; as there was a soft tap on the orphanige’s front door and Constancia quickly ran off to answer it. She was always excited to have visitors; all the children were. I heard footsteps in the corridor and the rattling of keys in the pocket of a pair of khaki pants. My stomach wrenched , as joy sprung like a fountain from the depths of my soul, and my heart skipped a beat!

This is what happens when you forget a pin cushion 
(took my sewing outside last evening)

Saturday, March 5, 2011

This is one of my favorite antique stores ever! There are cases and cases of jewelry there are boxes, baskets and bottles, there are drawers filled with old gloves, muffs, garters, belts, stocking and who knows what else and we must not forget the upstair which is filled with vintage hats and clothing of a large  variety. I have however only been there once since last June and that is rather sad. 

I am at present waiting for some old sheets to dry out, I had planned to use interfacing for my corset but I have only one small piece and it would be an hour drive in any direction to get to a place that sells it. So, sheets it is! In the mean time I am trying to decide what direction I want the boning to go. Think I'll paint my nails whilst I contemplate.

So it Begins

"There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you." ~ Miss Potter
This is one of my favorite quotes and I believe it can be applied in a far broader scale than simply writing a story. For instance the corset I started this afternoon. Also I've been playing around with my blog and I'm not satisfied quit yet ... should I put a picture of myself up on my header? 

Friday, March 4, 2011

Corset Patterns Ho Hum ....

So! Last time I went to Joan's I found this wonderful set of corset patterns for only 89 cents. I must admit I love wearing corsets. Whilst I was there I found this material for about $2 a yard and I knew I had to get it. At first I was thinking of making the corset on the bottom left however, as I was browsing the internet I found this delitful corset, which uses the upper left pattern and then I found someone who used the same pattern for a corset on a fairy costume. Then my mind moved to this summer a dear friend of mine and myself were thinking of going to the Renaissance Fair dressed as fairies. The only problem is that patterns and I have never really gotten along very well. I have the hardest tim understanding them. But at any rate, I shall follow the instructions and we shall see how it turns out.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Faith Amongst Other Things

Lately I'v been thinking a lot on faith, amongst other things. There is an entire chapter devoted to it in Hebrews 11. With my possible upcoming move to China I've had to ask the Lord "Why?", why is he leading me in this direction, does he actually want me to go to china? Or is it simply a matter of obedience and sacrifice that he desires of me. Is this like when he told Abraham to sacrifice his only son and then provided a ram at the last moment? Or does he truly want to take me away for a season. To have faith there must be know evidence, evidence is something have not, faith is what I'm living in. Fear is what I'm feeling, obedient is what I'm being.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Cheese (there's really nothing else to say)

Another wednesday spent quietly in the library. Ginger snaps with cheddar cheese, apple juice, tatting, journaling, reading of the November witching hour, while listening to Code Name Raven, and contemplating the continuation of Roses and Rope. I'm happy to say that me and my classes are getting along well. I think I've gotten all A's this semester and that makes me very happy. I may have mentioned before that one of the reasons I like wednesdays so much is because it's the closest thing I have to a normal school day. It's a crazy thought but next week I plan to leave my house at 8 am and not return till 9. What shall I do with all that time I wonder ;)

Finally finished

I started this dress about 4 years ago I used a simple pattern for the bodice but at the time I had no understanding of how patterns worked (and I still don't I must admit), I did a lot of things wrong, so many in fact that my mother was unable to help me backtrack and fix it. So the bodice sat in a basket of mending for three years until I came across a sheet at the thrift shop that I loved. When I got it home I realized the blue flowers matched perfectly. I finally got it all put together, but now it's a little big on top oh well, such is life. All the same, I am rather happy with it.
Below is a picture of me pretending it's warm enough outside to where a summer dress ... it wasn't.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Dirty Fingers

I have been cleaning out the flower beds. The Iris's and the Daffodils have begun to peak there sweet little faces out of the dirt. Daffodils always remind me of the secret garden and how Dicken would always call them daffadondillies. Unfortunately I have no roses so there won't be curtains and fountains of them this year.

Tea is Served

This morning I received the gift of this tea pot. It's not very old and it isn't very elegant. But I like the handle and I was needing another teapot. Also my mother found this tray on the sail rack at Walmart for $2 and I love it! Here I must expound upon the goodness of ginger snaps. However, I must add that ginger snaps are far better crowned with extra sharp cheddar cheese.