Peanut & Purls & the mystic chords of memory...

On February 12, 1809 in Hardin County, Kentucky, a great man was born. I freaking love Abraham Lincoln. I take my Lincoln love seriously. Like really seriously. I don't want to see Lincoln posed on a dinosaur, wearing sunglasses, or holding an ax. It makes me want to vomit. I am ok with him on a band aide because it's his actual face, and not some jazzed up altered version. I can't tell you exactly when my love for Lincoln came about, but this love is a true love, and it's not going anywhere...

My Lincoln love rivals my Lewis & Clark love and my affinity for Lisa Frank. Flipping through my phone, I found various Lincoln pictures from the last few years. The above photo was from Lincoln City, Oregon. The one below was taken at Powell's Bookstore in Portland. Whenever I see a little bit of Lincoln, it brightens my day.

I picked up a hideous orange plastic cup from the Ford's Theater gift shop 2 years ago. If you've been reading the blog, there's a chances that you've caught a glimpse of my Lincoln signature tattoo on here before. I got that when I was 18--my one and only tattoo.

I have, at last count, 32 Lincoln books and have amassed quite an eclectic collection of Lincoln memorabilia from thrift and antiques stores and estate sales. Finding a nice Lincoln treasure is the ultimate for me!

Now, I won't go into details, but I might have a tiny clipping (and I mean tiny) of Lincoln's hair. I just might. Sometimes when I meet a fellow presidential admirer, they'll try to out quiz me on Lincoln fun facts. I usually win...just saying.

Happy birthday A. Lincoln!

Interested in more Lincolnophile stuff? 

Christine crafted me an original Abraham Lincoln/John Wilkes Booth valentine a couple years back. You can read about my snobby take on the Peterson House Museum in DC from a couple summers ago.