Friday, September 7, 2012

On the predator instinct

Addison and I went out hunting produce today. We were looking for something to do, and I almost brought her to the mall and pet store like I do most other days. But then I remembered Lindsay bringing home a rather runty, totally unripe avocado from one of her walks around the neighborhood. And my vision went red, and I could almost taste its slightly nutty flesh crushed between my "'cary, 'cary teef," as Addison would say (no, I don't have messed-up teeth, they're just a lot bigger than Addison's).

I'm her dad, right? I'm not just a tickle-monster or a brings-sippy cup-when-demanded-machine. I figure it's my responsibility to help bring her natural hunter/gatherer instincts to fruition. Literally. Because we're after fruit. And you can't rely on the schools to teach your kids these kinds of life skills. If the zombie apocalypse occurs and we can't make it to the supermarket because there are too many bodies in the streets, she needs to know which neighbors to steal from.

So I readied the stroller, dropped the kid into it, handed her a spear, and started running. I didn't take any precise measurement, but considering that I'm pretty out of shape and that it's twice as hard to run while pushing a crappy stroller, we must have found all of these within less than a 2-mile circuit of our home. We stopped for a rest every time we found shade.

Oranges -- these are EVERYWHERE. I passed probably eight or ten overhanging the sidewalk.
Limes -- these look like smaller unripe oranges, but they are FAKERS.
Figs. No newtons.
Poisonberries. Don't eat them, but do make iocane powder from them.
Jackpot! Avocados! Hanging right over the wall above the sidewalk.
Also, a prickle, which Addison did NOT want to put underneath her armpit to hatch. I wonder how my dad got us to do that willingly.
Which brings me to another point. I've just been researching whether it's legal to pick fruit that hangs over a wall onto either your property or onto public property. What if the fruit has fallen on the ground? Do you know the answer? I've gotten a few conflicting suggestions from the web, but the web also told me that unicorns are real, and THAT ended up being embarrassing.

Obviously, if it turns out we've got a zombie problem, screw the law and the neighbors. If we need limes, we're just gonna take 'em. Don't want to get scurvy while camped out on our roof.

Barring that, it's obviously courteous to knock on a door and ask permission. But what's legal and illegal? Any thoughts/opinions/actual knowledge on the subject?


  1. If the tree rests on private property but the fruit hangs over into public land, residents can legally pick it.

    Read more: Law Regarding Picking Fruit From Someone's Tree | This is what I found on the subject. Besides, who is going to tell your adorable Addison that she can't have a few oranges. If the owner of the tree wanted them so badly they should have picked them. I guess I subscribe to the belief of finder's keepers.

    1. I think I'd still try to ask, but you know, if Addison really really wants one...

      Also, I wish I could find some links to some actual court rulings.

    2. I would suggest looking up local/city statutes. I'm sure it varies from town to town. Any court rulings are probably from 1867.

    3. Good tip, Kachi. You're probably the right one to ask.

  2. I am just green with envy. We spend probably 30 dollars alone each month on avocados. To be able to grow them in your backyard is like a dream for me. Also, I totally agree--finder's keepers!

    1. Nothing beats an avocado tree.

    2. Two avocado trees: one daddy avocado tree and one mummy avocado tree to lovingly procreate baby avocado trees.

      Birds and bees maybe involved. I'm not sure how mummy gets fertilised. If it's bees, and the bees are dying off, you'd be best to enjoy the avocado while you can get 'em.

    3. Two avocado trees definitely beats just one avocado tree. And avocado procreation? Both weird and kind of awesome.

  3. Yeah, so jealous. You've got some compensation for the heat, I'd say.