I appear to have a new recurring anxiety dream: i'm trying to start a car from a stop on a hill, and the clutch won't engage. And then the brakes won't engage. And so the car goes sliding backwards into the car behind me. I always wake up at the moment of impact, so at least so far I haven't had to dream about exchanging insurance info with another driver.
Bah. I like the recurring dream about fighting cybermen with my friends better. More cameraderie. (Plus, I get to marvel at my subconscious mind's firm hold on continuity: when we fought "Tenth Planet" era cybermen, we did it in black and white.)
My mother just phoned me to tell me that she's tooling around the Florida interstate with four pistols in the car. No, she hasn't adopted a life of crime, she's been entrusted with my late grandfather's small collection of antique firearms. The newest dates from 1905; the oldest may be Civil War era. i don't think my grandfather was much of a collector, so I think these may just be pistols that belonged to my great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather that he never got rid of.