This pear tree stands at my grandmother's house. I don't know how old it is, but it is older than I am (I am thirty-somethingorother). It holds many fond memories from my childhood. Among many other things this tree has been used as a jungle gym, has shaded a princess during high tea, and has even hidden a secret agent or two. I get nostalgic just looking at this picture.
Now-a-days, I love this tree for something more. There are beautiful flowering pear trees that don't produce fruit, and next to this tree seem fairly pointless to me. This tree is huge and produces an enormous amount of pears. My father is regularly at his mother's house grabbing what pears he can reach and the ones that fall helpfully to the ground. What do we with all those pears?
We make pear preserves,
pear syrup (you've never lived 'till you've had this stuff on pancakes),
and (for my Noah) pear sauce.
[Pear Preserves on GF Toast]
And then we spend the rest of the year enjoying them!