Despite years of providing art education and related services today’s prompt does not call to my mind the studio classroom. Its air filled with pungent smell of turpentine and workspaces littered with battered tubes of pigment.
No, the Daily Prompt: Paint puts me squarely in my kitchen canning pears. The connection? My southern drawl. Despite my academic background my accent remains thick as molasses in the winter. And just as sweet, Honey! So proper enunciation sometimes eludes me.
As noted in a previous post, I’d been fretting about our fire-blighted pear tree. I was certain that the weaken tree would no longer produce any edible fruit. But to my surprise it yielded fruit – an abundance of small, but tasty pears. A few weeks ago I processed our first harvest. Proudly ladling the pears into pint jars, I announced to my husband the completion of the batch.
“Really? How much have you canned?” He was pleased too.
“Today I put up 4 paints.” I was triumphant!
“I put up 4 paints.” I repeated.
“Mmm.” Billy paused then asked: “Are you referring to canning pears or what you do to make art? Its pronounced pint not paint. You put up 4 pints of pears.”
“I know! I know! 4 paints of pears. That’s what I said – I put up 4 paaaints of pears.” I retorted making sure I placed special emphasis on the word in question. And sulked back to the kitchen.
Billy smiled. Later he told me he thinks its cute the way I mispronounce the word pint. “Don’t change a thing. I love you just the way you are.”
Aww! Wonderful man. I think I’ll make his favorite breakfast tomorrow – biscuits smothered in gravy and a juicy link of saawshag.