Peach Pie and Trouble in Paris

I had about six peaches sitting on my counter, growing wizened. I cut them up, sprinkled some superfine sugar, cinnamon, and flour on them and tossed it all together. I had a Trader Joe's piecrust, frozen in the freezer (they're perfectly serviceable and have no fake ingredients) that I rolled into my blue pie plate. I dumped the peach mixture inside, rolled the other crust on top and crimped the edges. I made small slits in the top and sprinkled some more superfine sugar on top, baked it in a 350 degree oven until it was bubbling peach juice.

I fed it to four boys playing at my house and then finished it up by 9pm last night.

As for Paris, pillows flying in the living room did this:

Yes, that's the Tour Eiffel, in Lego, gracing a sacred corner of the room, the initial construction of which took many painstaking hours not only by our resident Lego genius, Henry, but The Incredibly Swiss Husband's meticulous attention to detail in the middle of the night.

I won't describe the screams of dismay that reverberated throughout the arrondissment.

Quel dommage.