Our neighbor, Evelyn, broke her leg last week and I couldn't help but remember a conversation I had once with Tim regarding just how many grandmothers' hips he'd be willing to break for an extra half inch....

But Evelyn broke her leg, and I swear I had nothing to do with it and that access to her ridiculously prolific peach-plum tree's fruit wasn't a consideration when placing that length of garden hose where she *might* loop her ankle into it and fall, landing her brittle 81 year old femur on a rock.  Nothing at all.

Here's what you do with peach-plums.  Cook them in a tart with apple slices and feed them to little children. 

Tonight, we eat!