I HATE Pears!

Did I tell you how excited I was to discover that on our newly purchased property we have a small orchard?  We have cherry trees, a peach tree, and two pear trees.  There are also so blackberry bushes and some unidentifiable foliage.  So excited when the cherry trees were blooming.  So bummed when the birds ate them all.  So excited when the peaches started growing.  So bummed when the squirrels ate them all.  But Hark!  No way, Jose', are you gonna eat my pears!  That's when I saw a large deer on his hind legs reaching up into the branches, stretching to pick my yet unharvested fruit.  What is a girl to do?  The pears still looked green, so to the internet I ran......

It seems pears are a weird little fruit.  They ripen from the inside out, so by the time they look ripe on the outside, they are too ripe on the inside.  Pick the pear and let it set for a couple of days and see if it ripens, Google told me.  So that is just what I did.  And guess what!?!?  It actually ripened into a someone small but tasty piece of sweet goodness.  By the time this had transpired our friendly deer had held a pear eating party and harvested several of the sweet treats from the lower limbs.  "I know!" I declared to my hubby.  "Lets go buy a picker!"  Though he was not nearly excited as me, he has learned to pick his battles and gave in to my basket on a stick.  We loaded up the UTV and drove back to the orchard.

We picked for an hour or two, cursing the half eaten pears that were on the ground, feeling smug in knowing that we had picked all the fruit that was in the reach of even that tall buck.  When we had filled the 18 gallon tote, we happily called it quits for the day and retired to the house, dreaming of pear butter, and jam, and all things pear.  

The next day I started my first batch of pear butter.  It really wasn't too difficult with the help of a crock pot and an immersion blender.  The house smelled heavenly.  On the second day, in the midst of my pear jam making, hubs announced that something had gotten into the pear trees and eaten more of the remaining pears.  No way!  How could it be?  Not easily convinced, I made the trek back to the orchard.  The ground beneath the trees was covered in partially eaten pears.  NO!

So the next morning, I grabbed the picker, a bucket, another tote, and hubby grabbed a step ladder and off we went to the orchard.  Four squirrels ran from the pear tree and barked at us the entire time we were there. We picked for hours.  No longer were we able to harvest an entire branch.  We were now picking one pear at a time, using the basket.  We picked both trees.  Hubs stood on the 6 ft step ladder, with his 8 foot extension picker and picked all he could reach.  Lets see:  6 foot ladder + 6 foot hubby (Actually 5'8, but who's counting?) +  8 foot picker = 20 feet.  Right?  We were exhausted.  My neck hurt from looking up for hours.  We filled the 18 gallon tote and the 5 gallon bucket but had to leave some pears at the very top of the tree.  Hubs wanted to climb after them but I generously said, let the birds and the deer have them (besides he had only just gotten out of the hospital a few weeks prior) (and I was tired!)  

The next morning, hubs reported that the pears that were on top of the trees were gone.  Again, I had to see for myself.  Sure enough, those dastardly little squirrels had harvested every last one.  Almost relieved, I returned to my pears.  So rough and dirty, we harvested 18 gal + 18 gal + 5 gallon for a total of 41 gallons.   I looked it up and there are 8 gallons to a bushel, so we harvested a little over 5 bushel of pears.  To date, I have made two batches of pear butter, pear jelly, pear jam, two batches of canned pears, pear pie filling and baked a pear pie.  My love of pears has dwindled.  My hatred has grown.  

I still have nearly two bushel to go.  If they were pretty pears like these, I would give them away.

But for the most part, they look like these distorted, under sized, and scarred.  I have to heat them to get them peeled.  

But we are loving the wonder of growing and preserving our own food.  Left to right:  Pear jam, pear butter, canned pears in medium syrup.

 Pear jelly

 Frozen pear pie filling.  (Freeze flat so that you can stand the bags up in the freezer drawer, like in a filing cabinet.)

So, I guess to sum up, me and pears have one of those love/hate relationships.  While my hands hurt, and I am mopping pear juice off my floor, I hate them.  Ask me again in January.....