Golly, has it really been over a week since I last posted? I do apologize—you know how it is this time of year. Truth is, I barely even touched the computer when my favorite people in the world were home (that would be my children, of course). It was lovely having them here, though the time passed all too quickly. Besides the usual Thanksgiving turkey, dressing, green beans, mashed potatoes, etc., we had a Thanksgiving kitten.
Well, not for dinner, of course…ha,ha. It was a stray (probably feral) kitten who wandered up to our doublewide. We fed her and made her a soft little bed outside, but she would have none of that. When she heard us laughing inside, she climbed up the window screen repeatedly to peer in, clinging to the screen and meowing indignantly all the while! In fact, we’re going to have to replace all three screens now—they are so damaged from the kitty’s claws. She was both amusing and entertaining (if a little destructive), but we’re really dog people, so we took her to the Humane Society where I feel quite sure she’ll win someone’s heart.
Besides kids and kittens, we’ve had a most bountiful yield of pears to keep us busy. In fact, we just harvested our last ones three weeks ago. As you can see from the picture above (taken back in October) showing the pear windfall, the trees produced a bumper crop this year, with some pears as big as softballs! And the three big tubs of pears you see below are but a drop in the bucket (no pun intended) compared to overall pear production. We’ve been eating and sharing and cooking and baking…and still, we have pears. We put them in our pseudo-cellar (which is to say…in the crawlspace) hoping that we might be able to preserve them for a little longer.
The sweetest and juiciest pears were the ones that fell naturally from the trees, so every day (before the groundhog could get them!), I picked up pears, a pleasant task in the warm autumn sun. I was fascinated by all the winged creatures feasting on the fallen pears. Yellow jackets, wasps, hornets, and honeybees dined side by side, buzzing drowsily, not seeming to care when I stumbled over them. I was able to watch them up close as they moved across the yellow pear globes, like little winged astronauts exploring new planets. There were so many, in fact, that I had to pick up each pear gingerly, lest I disturb one of the explorers.
Of all the things I make with pears, our favorite is pear nut bread, preferably warm right out of the oven with a glass of milk. In fact, it’s probably the reason Blue Ridge Blue Collar Man and I have gained…ahem…several pounds lately. After all, pears are good for you. Right?
Anyway, I took a picture of a couple of pears that I had peeled and I was going to post it with the caption “A Pair of Pared Pears.” Because, as you may recall, I really like puns. But I am aware that not everyone shares my affinity for wordplay, and, sadly, some people are actually quite annoyed by it. So I shall refrain.
I’ll just eat my pair of pared pears, with the sweet juice running down my chin, as I sit in the sun on my porch, thankful for another day…in Pearadise.