We Celebrate Labor Day!

Labor Day, the first Monday in September, honors the accomplishments of working people -- but to be honest, I always associated this holiday with the unofficial end of summer and the beginning of school. But today is a memorable Labor Day for me, a milestone of a 7-month-long project. "272 Words" has been stitched and framed. This blog, however, continues on. After all, President Lincoln's Bicentennial year extends to February 12, 2009 and there's lots to talk about. It's rather a luxury to have an entire blog devoted to one design. I will publish a chart of the design in the coming months -- details to be posted in mid-September, along with stats (design size, framing specs, etc.).

Today's story is told in pictures. Please click on the photos for a close-up view. Your encouraging comments over these last months continue to inspire, going forward into the next chapter of this sampler's life. I very much appreciate your taking the time to visit!

At times friends asked whether I tired of the project. Apart from a bit of physical fatigue (eye strain, finger cramps), I never tired of Lincoln's message. As stitchers, you are well acquainted with the amount of time involved in stitching even a small piece. With each stitch, the prose slowly appears on the linen, letter by letter -- that gives us time to meditate on each word. The Address unfolded in slow motion, allowing the stitcher time to absorb the depth of Lincoln's message. The Gettysburg Address is a national treasure. Thank you for joining me today.

"272 Words" -- The Gettysburg Address

"Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation . . ."

". . . conceived in Liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."

"Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live."

"It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this."

"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us . . . "

". . . that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom . . . "

". . . and that government of the people, by the people, for the people . . . "

". . . shall not perish from the earth."

Wrought by Elizabeth C. Gorski, in Honor of
President Abraham Lincoln's Bicentennial Year

New York City

July 4, 2009

"It Was Written In The Stars . . . "

In 1930, Ruth Wakefield of Whitman, Mass. mixed up a batch of cookie dough, not realizing tht she'd run out of baker's chocolate. The dough was already made, and Ruth had to rush the cookies in the oven to serve at the Toll House Inn -- a business she operated with her husband, Kenneth. In an act of improvisation that altered the course of baking history, she quickly threw in some chopped-up semi-sweet chocolate bits, expecting them to melt into the batter when baked. But when she removed the cookies from the oven, the semi-sweet bits hadn't melted into the dough. Ruth's guests loved the new chocolate-chunk cookie and the Toll House Cookie was born.

Now, I'm not comparing my work with Ruth Wakefield's ground-breaking invention, but I had my own "Ruth Wakefield Moment" last week. As I was finishing the sampler, I discovered, with horror, a terrible mistake. I had planned to stitch in 50 stars -- one for each state -- in the border. When I finished the entire border (hours and hours of stitching), and counted the stars, just to make sure . . . I counted only 48.

I hope my neighbors weren't too inconvenienced by the blood-curdling scream that followed.

What to do? Rip out some of the bars and sew in the stars? Or . . . find a place for the two extra stars in another area of the sampler. And that's how two red stars became celestial bookends for ABRAHAM LINCOLN's name. I had originally planned other design elements to flank Lincoln's name, but it seemed to be written in the stars . . . this was meant to be.

I like seeing Lincoln's name in stars. It befits the office of an executive, the Commander-In-Chief. It's a very simple configuration, plain and straightforward, like Lincoln himself. I was aiming for something solemn, respectful, in keeping with tone of the Gettysburg dedication.

And here's the final stitch back on July 3rd, the fiftieth star . . .

In planning the second phase of the sampler prep, I chose Labor Day, September 7, for the final reveal of the framed piece . . . another national holiday that coincides with a Grand Slam tennis tournament (The U.S. Open, here in NYC, this time). This allows plenty of time to "proofread" the sampler, make minor changes/corrections and deliver it for framing over the summer.

I would be a complete disgrace if I -- a puzzlemaker in a parallel life -- misspelled a word of the Gettysburg Address. I'd never live that one down! That's why I'm proofreading in a slightly obsessive way. And since "misspelled" is one of the most misspelled words in the English language . . . one can't be too careful.

See you in a few days, and enjoy the weekend. Thanks again for visiting on July 4th. Your comments mean the world to me. Ciao!