Mystery Solved

Earlier in the week I read Time magazine's spread on Elizabeth Taylor. On page 62 of the article, there's a photo of Taylor and an unidentified, damn fine-looking man leaning up against what looks to be a sound stage at some or other studio. Earlier today I tweeted: "Who is unidentified male on page 62 of new @TIME with Elizabeth Taylor? Inquiring minds want to know!" Within an hour (ain't Twitter grand?), @Allie_Townsend, who works for Time (and asked the photo department), provided the answer. The unidentified smoldering yet nonetheless nonchalant hunk is Montgomery Clift, whom we now know was deeply tortured by his bisexuality during a time when nobody came out of the closet. (According to Patricia Bosworth's biography of Clift, he once said, "I love men in bed, but I really love women!")

Regardless of that bit of gossip, here's the photo (I cropped it for maximum hunk-gazing), taken by Peter Stackpole, Time & Life Pictures back in the day. Enjoy!

Mystery Solved

Hydrangeas

Ever since spending a few days in Cape May several years ago, I've been a hydrangea lover. There, in the quaint Victorian town along the Jersey Shore, they grow on large bushes into enormous flowers. Ever since that summer we've planted and grown pots of hydrangeas; my husband actually nursed last year's through the winter and some survived this summer. But nothing can compare with what we just saw at Central Market. On a day as hot as today - probably 105 and humid - there's not a whole lot I want to do, but looking at these brightened my sour mood immensely. If you're experiencing the dog days of summer, perhaps they will do the same for you.

If you'd like, click the photos to see them enlarged.

Hydrangeas

Bluebonnets from the Highway

Dallas may be one of the most unattractive locales going, but every springtime there are patches of loveliness as a result of the wildflower planting begun by Lady Bird Johnson.

As I drove around yesterday I saw them from the highway and invite you to take a little journey in your mind. Imagine driving on an ugly interstate or frontage road, with gas fumes, big rigs, and annoying traffic, then glancing out your car window and seeing these amazing, ephemeral beds of blue:

We leave tomorrow for our daughter's high school graduation and when we return Thursday night, I'm hoping the beds of blue haven't yet faded away until next spring. If they're still there, I honestly can't think of a better homecoming to signal a fresh, new start.

Bluebonnets from the Highway