"ooh Dream WeaverI believe you can get me through the ni-ight
ooh Dream Weaver
I believe we can reach the morning li-ight."
If only I could successfully get you into West Virginia. It began hours before on US RT 50. I awoke to find the RV travelling as if it were fleeing a crime scene. I poked my head into the cockpit to find my Mother strewn with maps and cue sheets mumbling something about crossing a bridge four times. After confirming the only law broken was speed, I hopped down and relieved my mom of duties she wasn't responsible for when I went to sleep. Seems her navigator fell asleep and they wound up lost. And so did H2. Lost that is not fell asleep, despite the Navigator's name. But let's not blame the Sleepigator. We consulted maps, cue sheets, even GPS; clearly Farson St was right there off Route 50 and yet it clearly wasn't. Brenda never saw it and kept asking what to do. I was at a loss; Sit tight. But what should we do she repeated? SIT TIGHT. Leave it to Sylvia to employ a 'local' to the rescue. She and this New York native 'local' found them on 50 and directed them to 7. It seems a brand new road opened just last week. Bugger. They successfully escorted our weary crew home.
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