"I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not better for it" ~ Abraham Lincoln

Much is written about Lincoln's compassion towards animals. He saved his dog from drowning in an icy river. He found homes for motherless kittens. And according to some scholars, Lincoln issued the first Presidential Pardon to a Thanksgiving turkey -- now a White House tradition. I admire men who show tenderness towards animals.

Terry from Manhattan called last night to, among other things, inquire (cross examine?) about the sampler dimensions, fabric, floss specs, etc. Terry is a high-powered New York real estate lawyer who taught me cross stitch in 2001. I wouldn't be writing these words if it hadn't been for Terry's passion for cross stitch. I had long admired her stitchery, but it took her a while to get me to try it. Terry was right. The mathematical precision intrigued me and shortly after the inaugural stitch, I was hooked.

Anyone who reads Jane Austen will appreciate the role of stitching in women's lives, as requirements of everyday life. The modern woman is free of such requirements. Yet it seems that we've gone full circle. We're singing the same song, but in a different key. Now that we don't have to stitch, guess what we're doing in our spare minutes?

We're stitching.

Getting One's Ducks In A Row . . .

Yesterday I made a supplies run to a great cross stitch shop in Clifton NJ. I'm a hardcore New Yorker (no car), so I jumped onto the No. 1 train and headed to Times Square; then to Port Authority to catch a bus to The Garden State.

I'm starting to notice all things Lincoln -- the No. 1 train stops at 66th Street, Lincoln Center. Times Square is the eastern terminus of the 13-state Lincoln Highway, the first major memorial to the 16th President. Travellers on the original highway (completed in 1913) would travel west from Times Square, take a ferry across the Hudson to Weehawken NJ -- then across the U.S., to the western terminus, Lincoln Park in San Francisco. The Lincoln Highway is the nation's first transcontinental road, nicknamed Main Street Across America.

That Weehawken ferry service -- now a busy commuter line with a fleet of ships -- made headlines last month, when ferry captains chugged to the rescue of a downed U.S. Airways airbus floating in the icy Hudson River. Captain Sullenberger's virtuosic landing made us cheer. Sully wanted to land close to a vessel, to maximize the chance of a quick rescue. Don't you want to shake his hand and buy him a beer? And those fantastic ferry crew and first responders -- they make me prouder than ever to be a New Yorker .

At 42nd Street, it's on to Port Authority where I caught the NJ bus which barrels through the Lincoln Tunnel. Later last night, a supermarket radio (permanently tuned to the oldies station) crackles with the "Name Game" song: "Lincoln, Lincoln, bo binken . . . banana fanna . . "

Do they still make Lincoln Logs?

A Proclamation

Three weeks and two days ago, I decided to embark on a project that, for years, has bounced from one to-do list to another, and mentally filed away under "Some Day." Well, "some day" is here. Next week our country celebrates the bicentennial of Abraham Lincoln's birth. There is no better time to start on said project -- a cross stitch sampler featuring the 272-word text of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address of November 19, 1863.

Here's the plan: I commence stitching next week, on Lincoln's 200th birthday -- Thursday, February 12. The goal is to complete the sampler on July 4. These historic dates seem like practical punctuation marks, though I suspect that Life will intervene and send my neat little plan into a tailspin. That's okay . . . I work best with a deadline.

Pre-stitching prep work is a needleworker's mise en place -- fabric is purchased, floss is selected, a stitching chart is designed. I've named this cross stitch chart "272 Words." It's time to go to work.