Disney: the Good, the Bad, the Gary Numan

It's been two weeks since we got back from Florida and I'm only now finding the time and energy to post this short blog. Like a lot of people, I've found it hard in my post-holiday blues to resume the humdrum routine. It wasn't that it was the perfect holiday, because it wasn't. As enjoyable as it was it inevitably paled in comparison to our wedding and honeymoon trip there three years ago. On that trip the planets all stood in line for us. This time, they didn't, or at least not nearly as much. Still, we had a fun if tiring time. The best: dining with a real astronaut at Kennedy Space Center. The worst: night terrors that visited me every night for the first ten nights or so, nasty little dreams full of darkness and violence. It's funny when I think about it now; there we we were, holidaying in a world of magic and innocence and I'm laying my head down at night to stuff that would make even Jack Ketchum turn on the lights. The weird: spotting singer and musician Gary Numan at the stroller parking area near Cinderella's Golden Carousel in The Magic Kingdom. I think I'm the only person who recognised him, which is either sad for him or sad for me - answers on a postcard.

Back to reality and that ever-growing To Do list. This week, to start things off, I'm going to sit down and read through the first draft of the novel, taking copious notes along the way for the second draft, which should be a lot of fun. Or not. But you never know, maybe some of those Disney nightmares will prove useful...

(Yes, that's yours truly in the pic, in full tourist get-up. The word you're looking for is dork, or maybe dickhead).