On reflection.

Several dead and over one hundred people injured in a series of explosions at the Boston Marathon.

I have spent the past few hours pouring over amateur footage of the tragic events. Video phones portraying an elated carnival atmosphere torn to pieces by deadly blasts, runners sprinting for their lives, emergency teams risking everything by darting headfirst into the ensuing chaos. Graphic images showing the true extent of terrorism. Early reports suggest that an eight-year-old child is amongst the dead; an innocent youngster without even a thought or opinion on the fabricated religious farce that drives this kind of act.

Terrorism saddens me. It breaks my heart to the point that I can no longer stand it. My mind becomes confused, tangled beyond comprehension and I cry. I cry for humans - both victims and perpetrators as, in their own ways, both are lost within the twisted world in which we live.

It belittles me and consumes me with guilt. How dare I sit and quibble over the fact that my day has not gone quite to plan; that the minutiae of my daily routine didn't quite tesselate to my complete satisfaction. My day in which no-one was hurt, no-one was maliciously targeted and, above all, no-one died.

Perspective is a personal concept and these old minds of ours find it a hard concept to conquer. Trust me, I refuse to give up. Though I may not claim to be the next Sigmund Freud (heaven help us if I am) but I do firmly believe that healthy perspective is the key to inner peace and finding it is one of the greatest ambitions any human can have.

An absolution that we can only pray this world some day finds.

Oh Sunday.

I've had the ultimate relaxing Sunday; slept until late morning, enjoyed a full-english breakfast and basked in the sunshine of the garden. Adam's mum is looking after Skye this weekend, so I had the ideal opportunity to have the ferrets in the sun lounge for a much needed runaround. They really are the most adorable little creatures, dooking and jumping through their tubes - it's just a shame that Skye doesn't really share the same opinion.

We made the spur of the moment decision to drive over to Sainsbury's yesterday evening to buy some cocktail equipment and a basket load of spirits. I'm not 100% sure where the incentive came from but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with an old Desperate Housewives re-run that happened to be on TV at some point. Needless to say, we now have the urge to build ourselves a minibar though I haven't the faintest idea where we could put one. Adam will find somewhere, he always does. He turns this house into Mary Poppins' bag - give him an hour of rearranging and I reckon he could find room for a small African republic upstairs. Having said that, I'm dubious as to what lurks underneath each of the spare beds.

And now Sunday, the day of rest is almost over. I'm contemplating prizing myself from the sofa, ready to navigate the stairs to bed but part of me despairs at the idea of wasting the final precious moments of the weekend. I'm a nightmare that way. I've always been a night owl, absolutely detesting the idea of going to bed - unfortunately for me, this often results in too many late nights and I'm one of the most loathsome of humans first thing in the morning. I've noticed that my work colleagues have started giving me a wide birth when I first walk in at 9am. To be honest, I've tried convincing myself that it's down to how busy everyone is. I know I'm wrong, but a little self-delusion never did anyone any harm, did it?

Mustering.

Despite the sun's sudden emergence from what seems like an eternal hibernation, the air has remained bitterly cold over the past few days. English weather is a trickster; it tries it's damn hardest to dupe you into throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, only to find yourself cutting glass the minute you step outside the front door. It can be both depressing and amusing.

I took advantage of the beautiful sunset and took Skye for a woodland walk yesterday. It was so nice amongst the trees; waves of golden light flooding through the bare branches, spring draughts whistling through the undergrowth. I managed to snap a few photographs before becoming genuinely concerned by Skye's persistant attempts to hang herself from various boughs. Suicidal hound.

I've found myself rattling around the house on my lonesome quite a lot lately due to Adam constantly being at work. I'm 9 to 5 and he works shifts; unfortunately, his shifts are awkward times meaning that I am either at work or in bed by the time he finishes. I'm often banging on about how I love my 'me' time but, like all human beings, I'm also inclined to moan when it swings completely the other way. I guess you just can't win in these little old minds of ours. I suppose I also resent (a little) the fact that I am always left with the dog to look after despite being reassured by Adam that he would ensure he would undertake the majority of her care. Yes, I was the one that wasn't too keen on getting a dog - not because I don't love them but I've grown up with them and know just how much attention a young dog needs. Suffice to say, I gave in to Adam's constant badgering and now he is almost always at work.

Oh well, Skye is happy enough - I'm sure I can push my selfish needs aside for the time being. We were thinking of taking her to the beach on Saturday. No doubt you'll see us on some news report; found frozen to death in some northern cove. We should question our mental sanity really but I'm sure she'll enjoy it.

In the grand scheme of things, life is good. During a week of crazy news involving parents murdering their own children in house fires and countries attempting to provoke war, all we can do is take a breath and muster the strength to soldier on, enjoying everything we are blessed to have.

After all, it really isn't too much to muster.

A not so egg-citing Easter.

I made Moroccan lamb for tea tonight. Adam is working late shifts all week so it's a good time to practice my cooking and try things that I normally wouldn't get to try - he isn't exactly the most adventurous of people when it comes to food. It was nice but I'd probably substitue the cut of lamb for something a bit more tender if I was to do it again.

The bitterly cold wind and snow has finally subsided after what feels like the longest winter of all time. I almost died of shock when I stepped out into the sun this morning and actually felt warmth - I pinched myself several times to make sure I had woken up.

Work is quiet this week, deathly quiet in fact due to the schools being off for Easter. Having said that, there is still lots of stuff to organise and I believe that Gloucestershire go back early next week so the tranquility will be short lived. I can't grumble though, I was relived to go back to the office after a few days off over Easter - I've decided that I really am one of these people that just cannot cope with doing nothing. I was home alone for the entire four day weekend and the one day that Adam was off work, he stayed in bed for 22 hours (yes, 22 hours) complaining of some kind of stomach flu. Don't get me wrong, I can be sympathetic when I need to be but I struggle when it comes to nursing others for the simple reason that I don't think I have ever suffered from an ailment bad enough to warrant total bed confinement. I'm the opposite when I'm ill - I suddenly find a million and one things to do in order to convince myself that I'm okay. Jeez, dare I say it; I'm starting to sound like my Father.

I cleaned the house, tended to the dog, changed the sheets, sorted out the reading room ready to decorate (when I finally decide on the theme), caught up on all my TV shows and finally got around to restocking the pantry. Obviously I paraphrased when asked the dreaded 'How was your weekend?' question as I walked into the office this morning. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I was one of those people.

So that was my Easter and I didn't even have the pleasure of receiving an abundance of chocolate eggs due to the minor issue of disliking most forms of cocoa. Poor old me ay? I hope you guys experienced a somewhat more colourful weekend.

P.S - Though my iPhone does a fine job of capturing most of my daily musings, I'm finally thinking of investing in a decent SLR. It has always been an interest of mine but I just don't know where to begin. I know a couple of budding David Baileys may read this so any advice on a good first SLR and lens would be much appreciated!