When Steeb and I got married in our backyard in 2005 we planted a pear tree. The special espalier kind with two varieties grafted to a single root. I just adore that kind of symbolic romantic practicality. The sweet little tree has grown and I have tended to it, but it has never produced a pear until this year. Three actually. One that fell early and got some bugs, one that got something (bug? fungus?) in the spring and has developed oddly, and this lovely little pear Franklin and I painted today. I loved the process of painting this, taking the time to really look and try to match the amazing variety of colors splotching across the skin. But honestly I like seeing these together more than I like the final page from my book.