Nothing much.

Reasonably uneventful day, spent most of it whinging about my back wishing I had some clue about what I may have done to cause it such anger. As with most men, I guess, oblivion was the best I could come up with in my empty head.

You know the scenario. B says, "what you thinking?". "Nothing says I". Now she's angry feeling I'm holding something back, some deep secret, some naughty little boy deed that she'll find out if she grinds away at that empty head of mine....."you can't be thinking nothing!", she says convinced she'll catch me out and I'll reveal some dastardly deed that'll be instant grounds for divorce.

News flash. Us men, we really can be thinking nothing! And those times we have that confused look on our face that you ladies interpret as guilt, it's just us men searching around in the corners of our brain to see if there's something that resembles a thought followed by the realisation that the small fragment we found hidden on a shelf in the basement was a memory of Saturday's game that will sate no woman.

So, all we are left with is either the first option, an indignant...."nothing", or the hopeless alternative of making an abysmal shot at flattery, fueling further the assumption of guilt. Experience has taught me to stick with the 'nothing' option.

So point is, today was a 'nothing' day, during which I seemed to think 'nothing very much'...least of all about my blip. So whilst out the front, I took a shot of the three houses opposite us, which I never tire of looking at, especially on a pleasant summer's evening sunset.

I realise it's nothing much, but that's all you're going to get!