Stewed pears for the soul

For several years now I have been a committed urbanite.  What this really means is that I live centrally, stay away from malls, and don't talk to my neighbours.  Also, until recently it has meant that gardens and gardening were something I only experience via shows like Mucking In and then, only if there was nothing else on and/or the remote had disappeared into the couch cushions again.  But since moving into my current digs there have been lawns to mow and ... fruit trees.

In particular, I have a pear tree at my house that thinks it's responsible for feeding the entire population of the greater Christchurch area.  For the last month this tree has dropped between two and three buckets of pears a day.  At about five kilos per bucket that's several hundred kilos of pears.  Every evening I pick up and sort all the dropped fruit and every morning there are more waiting for me.  To start with it was frustrating but I'm starting to appreciate what the pear tree can teach me.  The zen of pear, if you will.

It's an ant eat pear world - I have had to become quite harsh in my pear-judgment.  Every day when I pick up the fallen fruit, I wipe off the dirt and give it the once over.  It's like the New Zealand's Next Top Model of fruit.  Bird-pecked, ant-nibbled or broken fruits are consigned to the "compost" and are hurled to one side.  Intact pears are lovingly placed in a blue bucket with a sigh of "not another good one.  How'm I gonna eat all these?"  Or sometimes I imperiously tell them that they're still in the running to becoming New Zealand's first Next Top Tree Fruit.  So what I've learned is that even small imperfections are enough to get you kicked out when there's a lot of competition.

Give and you shall receive - I've taken to leaving bags full of pears at my front gate with a sign encouraging passing strangers and neighbours to help themselves.  I've also taken several bags to work.  The result?  I'm now in possession of a reciprocal bag of peaches...and my grateful neighbours left me a card to say thanks for the ingredients for their pear baby-food.  I might have to start talking to them after all...

There's nothing like the feel of your hand on a nicely rounded bottom - Why is "pear-shaped" a bad thing?  I think they've got a lovely bottom-heavy silhouette.

Catchphrases suck - Mine has been "d'ya want any pears?" for a few weeks now.  This is repetitive and probably quite irritating.  Even Bart Simpson doesn't say "eat my shorts" any more.  Catchphrases, like fallen pears, have a short shelf life before they become unpleasantly squishy or just plain annoying.  "Wassuuuuuppp!" anyone?

Here there be abs - Bending over.  Picking up pears.  Standing up.  Bending over.  Picking up pears.  Standing up.  Repeat every day for a month.  I think that there might now be an ab or two in my squishy middle fighting to be seen.

So, yeah.  I'm a bit obsessed with pears at the moment (pear madness!), and they're not even my favourite fruit.  I'm more of a braeburn apple sort of gal, truth be told.  But if anyone can think of any uses/recipes for pears (conventional or non) I'd really like to hear them.  Has fruit ever taught you any valuable life lessons?