Grey and blustery here chez Casa Reynard, but quite warm nonetheless.
Slept ok, though went to bed very late (lady issues) and then had a very strange dream about buying pastries at Waterloo Station with a particular racing driver. No cheese was involved, I assure you.
I have spent the morning doing some writing and watching the FP3 from Silverstone. Now watching the W-series. There's the F1 qualifying at 3, and then right after, the E-prix from Marrakech.
Had a good evening chatting with my mate Simon on messenger last night. I'm responsible for an epic typo that is still making me giggle this morning. At the time, I was laughing so hard I was crying, and the cats were looking at me like I'd completely lost the plot. That ship sailed years ago, so the furry girls are behind the times, somewhat...
Although as a result of our collective nerding yesterday, I have bought yet another book off him. This is what happens when you've a bestie who sells books for a living.
This time, it's that hefty tome on the history of Toleman. I only have the much smaller volume by Bob Constanduros published in the mid 1980s.
