When You Gotta Go

So, Quiltcon is going to be held in Savannah this coming February and the people of Philly Modern are excited to the point that they are considering hiring a bus to get us there. I mentioned this to Himself who thought it might be nice if the two of us went to Savannah at that time, eschewing the fun of the bus in favor of driving ourselves. He'd enjoy seeing the show and finding out what the fuss is all about, and if I should decide to take a class, there would be stuff in Savannah to occupy him during that time. 

The more we've thought about it, the more a few days in Savannah seem like a perfect remedy for a Philadelphia winter. Not to mention visiting our sons and grandchildren en route. The B&Bs that I've considered in Savannah are most inviting. And then there's South of the Border which we visited in December of 1967 on our way to his first duty station in Pensacola, and we'd most likely need to experience again. Oh, yes, we are warming to this idea!

And then the thought occurs:  Do we need to bring our birth certificates along in case we must make a pit stop in North Carolina? Will there be [same sex] sentries at the restroom doors demanding to see them? Will we be denied admittance without them? Or just take our chances?

We have a couple of friends in that state who would undoubtedly share their facilities with us, but Pfafftown and Winston-Salem are a far piece from the dreaded I-95. Oh, dear. Perhaps all of this nonsense will be history by February. If not, we'll plan to pause in Emporia (Virginia) and then high-tail it to South of the Border.