Now if this were tomorrow at this time, I should be in the drivers seat heading out to Fountain County – meeting my cousins in Attica. Every time I think of Attica, I see Gregory Peck in my mind. Atticus Finch, don’tcha know. I don’t know what I saw before I read To Kill a Mockingbird – all I remember is my dad asking if I wanted to go through Attica or not on the way to Kingman. And then, of course, he always asked about Yeddo. It was an ongoing joke which began before I can remember. I suppose the name was funny when I was little. He’s dead now; in fact, it’s his grave to which I am going on Thursday. However, his voice and that question pop into my mind whenever I see the Yeddo sign.

Maybe when I die, my last word will be Yeddo, but I doubt it. I don’t think I have the same fondness for Yeddo as Kane had for Rosebud.

I’d like to take a lot of pictures of my way down, but I will be in the car alone. I need someone along to document the route across Indiana that I take on Memorial Day Week-end . . . because it is pastoral and because I usually get lost, despite GPS. I should have an album of AmeliaJake Lost Places. Actually, I am usually not truly lost; I am mostly a little lost. That is probably worse because I think, “Oh, surely I can figure this out.” That isn’t so bad most of the time, but when I get down in the area where east and west roads lead to the floodplain of the Wabash River, I can do a lot of backtracking.

Better save my strength for tomorrow.