Last Sunday my husband obtained "free" pears. See, a guy he works with has a neighbor with a pear tree. The couple wanted none of their pears and my husband had a chance to take as many as he could for free. So he borrowed my brother's enormous truck (the one my brother never drives because he can't afford to gas it) because it has a ladder rack with a huge extension ladder tied to it.
Of course the truck was on empty when he picked it up. My husband barely made it to a gas station to gas up. He had to put $50 in just to get it to a half tank!
Then he proceeded to drive to the location of the ahem, free pears.
Ironically, I just enjoyed listening to a This American Life podcast titled, Something for Nothing. Essentially, all about how you can never get something for free.
Like pears. Our $50 pears.
I am grateful for all the effort that went into getting them though, believe me.
However, my husband enjoyed his time hanging out with his friend and teetering on the end of an extension ladder pulling pears from a single tree. He filled up that red recycling box pictured above (photo taken after I had processed half of them).
I have around 15 pears left (and a fruit fly colony that continues to gather strength and numbers) in the kitchen. The rest of the pears were made into pear butter, and cinnamon-spiced pear slices. I've got 21 quarts of pears, and that feels good. The kids love the pears too.
I swear I have blisters from the freakin' peeler.
And I felt like I had cankles after standing for hours at a time in the kitchen, peeling, peeling, peeling pears and putting them into lemon water.
So the pears are done.
Guess what? Me, my mom and the kids went to the apple orchard Friday. We visited Wasem's (very close to Lincoln High School for you locals).
It's a very nice place that forced me to buy loads of apples for making applesauce.
If you have time and want to hang out in the kitchen with me and This American Life podcasts, give me a shout. I've got a peeler with your name on it.
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