A month of finding stories

True confession time … when I decided I would try to post something every day in July (and the last couple days in June), I never thought I’d actually be able to do it.

I figured at some point I’d have unconquerable writer’s block, or I wouldn’t have time or I’d just decide I really didn’t feel like doing it, and who cares, right? I was only doing it to challenge myself, anyway.

But here we are. It’s July 31, and I’m sitting at my kitchen counter, typing away on my iPad.

More of a Monday than normal

I probably have the same relationship with Mondays as most people — I’m not a fan — but today seemed like a worse-than-normal case of the Mondays.

And I’m not really sure why.

Boston’s garden for the public

With some time to kill between dinner and “Moulin Rouge” the other night, my wife and I went to Boston Public Garden.

It was a beautiful early evening in Boston, a perfect time to go the park.

I never imagined that I’d see “Moulin Rouge”

My wife pointed out this morning that this year, we’ve seen:

— “Les Miserables” and “Hamilton” in London.

— “My Fair Lady” in New York.

— “Moulin Rouge” last night in Boston.

That’s a pretty good seven months of theater … which once upon a time I would have never done.

The greatest story I’ve ever told

The story always kills, so I’ll tell the story.

Sasha’s greatest triumph

Although she once accidentally turned the oven on by walking across it, we haven’t been all that strict about keeping our cat Sasha off tables and countertops, especially if there’s no food on them.

However, there’s one thing we have consistently denied her.

She wants to eat at the table.

Pearls of #WednesdayWisdom

I saw a post on Twitter this morning from someone seeking the ability to report an account as a Russian bot, calling it her #WednesdayWisdom.

I’d be OK with that, and also an edit button, but it did make me wonder what other sages were sharing in 280 characters or less.

(WARNING: These are not all G-rated, or even PG.)

Is aging just what you make of it?

I’ve had a long-running joke with a friend over the time I overheard her at work a few years ago talking about something that happened “in 1996, when I was 5.”

Quickie math at my desk 10 feet or so away determined she was born in 1991, and since her birthday was yesterday, it meant I was between my freshman and sophomore years in college.

She’s now 26, and in her Facebook message thanking people for birthday wishes, wrote that in her head, she’s 24, and “maybe probably likely one of those people who’s going to hit my prime in my 30s.”

With the exception of the first year, her 30s are going to be my 50s. I have no idea where I’ll be in relation to my prime.

The ballpark in my mind, and in my memory

I look at photos of the former Heritage Park site in Colonie, New York, and I can see everything.

I can see the view from behind home plate in the photo above (massive thanks to ballparkreviews.com for that and all the other photos you’ll see here), out past the scoreboard in right-center field.

I know that Albany County Airport is across the street, just down the road.

Who’s buying this stuff?

While we were in the bookstore tonight, my wife pointed out the latest issue of “Allure” with Lily James on the cover, as we had just seen the new “Mamma Mia!” movie earlier in the week.

Prominent magazine, star of a big movie on the cover … that sounds like something someone perusing the magazine racks might buy.