It was inspired by the sheer quantity of pears the tree in our front garden produces every year. So many pears that old ladies from the neighbourhood come by and fill carrier bags with the things - whacking the tree with their walking stick to encourage the fruit from higher up to fall. Which is fine by me, because otherwise they drop, rot and ferment in the front garden, and if we go away for more than a few days we come back to a doorstep that smells like rough cider.
So as the old saying goes, 'if life gives you pears, add them to whisky...', and if it's winter, throw in some cinnamon as well.