The Urban Orchardist

One of my ducks started another nest of eggs, near the busy MLK street side of my garden. She pulled out a bunch of soft downy feathers and settled in right next to the chain link fence. I thought: good luck with that. Periodically eggs would roll from the nest under the fence to the sidewalk. I watched a few passersby pause, look at this greenish egg rolling around with the ubiquitous Dorito bags, and then gently push the egg back into the nest.

So it’s through a community effort that these ducklings finally hatched.

They are certainly adorable. But then they grow up. What’s a girl to do that has a pending permit from the City of Oakland that says: “No slaughtering or butchering of animals allowed?”

With previous hatches, I had been lucky and bartered with people–they got ducklings, I got some produce. But a few duckies did stick around and they grew up, and I had some big ducks on my hands. I figured it would be pretty easy to find a slaughterhouse. Nope. One place I called said they don’t process ducks, just chickens. Another said they had a 100 duck minimum. Finally I found a place in Manteca that would process my measly 8 ducks. Manteca is an hour’s drive away. To process 8 ducks, it would cost $80 ($10/duck). The paradox that I could buy a cooked duck from Chinatown for less than $10 was not lost on me. Still, I went. I didn’t have many other options.

The trip to Manteca was actually kind of fun because my friend D came along, and of course so did Billy and baby Francis. The slaughterhouse was a real mom and pop affair, not the nightmare PETA video places that I imagine when I think slaughterhouse. They did an outstanding, quick, clean job with the ducks. Much faster than I would, and less painful–my fingers really get weary trying to get all those pin feathers. Although $10/duck seemed high, I realized that if someone had walked up to me and said, “i’ll do that for $10,” I do believe I would have gladly handed them the duck.

The money’s spent, the fuel burned, I’m not mad about it. But I do wonder how this Oakland no slaughter law will work for someone with no car and no cash.

We’ll see how this batch of ducklings turn out. I’ve made a couple barters with folks to trade ducklings for things like eggs or tomatoes. Contact me (novella.carpenter@gmail.com) if you want to do this with this hatch…

It’s May–harvest time. Months ago I planted carrots, garlic, potatoes, peas, fava beans. Now it’s time to pull them out and cover up the beds for the fallow season. I know it’s weird–just as everyone is planting out their tomato starts and cuc seeds for a summer garden explosion, I’m reining her in. Believe me, I wish I could have a big summer garden. But I’ve taken over paying the water bill now–and it’s huge.

How did a renter get stuck with the water bill? My landlord for our apartment, which also has the hose bib I use to water the garden, has gone missing in action, and EBMUD turned off our water. I turned it back on and put the bill in my name. So far, every two months the garden uses about $75 worth of water–a lot, especially when it’s been raining and I haven’t had to water much. Imagine the July bill!

So, just like last year, I’m going to give the garden a summer break. Yesterday, I harvested all the fava beans. And I just started pulling up the first of the carrots.

By June, when the rains have ceased, I’ll harvest the rest of the carrots, the potatoes, let the garlic dry up and then yank it. By July the only thing I’ll need to water are the fruit trees. I’ll cover everything with mulch or burlap bags.

I am dry farming a few early girl tomatoes and some russet potatoes. By the duck drinking area, I’ll probably pop in one cucumber plant which will drink up all that spilt water. I’ll be going to the farmer’s market for everything else–glad to support them, while I take a wee break and try to finish my next book….