No, Really! I Baked 1 Pie! Then 2! And I have Witnesses!

I topped my promise by making not one, but two , rhubarb pies. The first one came into being last night at around ten, the second was taken out of the oven 12 hours later. I must admit--and I hate to burst 'Radiation Cinema's' bubble--that until yesterday I had never made a pie before. Of any kind. Ever. Although I baked my first cake from scratch at nine,and have made many scrumptious from-scratch desserts since, it had never really occurred to me to bake a pie. Until 8 days ago, as I missed yet another family function. In my isolation, I started feeling sorry for myself. From there, it was an easy step or 2 to dreaming about all of the food that I could be missing. Rhubarb pie made that mental list; I even posted the recipe. It was not until the next day that I realized that , if I wanted it badly enough , I could make it myself.
Until that baking epiphany , pies were , to my mind , the sole territory of my Grandmother (with apologies to every one else in my family who make lovely pies in their own right). However, once the idea took root , the outcome was inevitable: I would bake a pie, crust and all. If I am going to do something, I am going to do it all of the way, and correctly.
I ended up baking 2 pies, as the recipe makes enough dough for a pie with a top crust. I also had more than enough rhubarb. I must say that the pies turned out better than I could have hoped for: they were pretty damn perfect (and I have witnesses to back that up, thank you nicely). Rhubarb was the perfect pie to start with: an easy filling and only 1 crust. Yet, I was amply concerned with screwing up that crust. I need not have worried:it turned out flaky and ideally baked. The photographs are of the first pie, my true baby. (By the second, I felt as if I really knew what I was doing but, as everyone would agree, nothing beats your first.)