Official letterhead. Bold text. Notice of Violation and Assessment.
Fifteen thousand in back dues. Penalties. Interest. A two hundred dollar processing fee for the letter itself.
The audacity almost impressed me.
By noon, she’d escalated. Complaints filed with the county about agricultural violations. Posts on Nextdoor warning about a suspicious new landowner ignoring community standards. A petition signed by three HOA families about neighborhood disruption.
Disruption. On land I hadn’t even planted yet.
I drove straight to the county courthouse.
The stone steps were worn smooth by decades of boots and shoes, and the building smelled like old paper and floor polish. Behind the counter sat Dolores. Elderly. Sharp. Bifocals hanging from a chain. Ink-stained fingers that told you she’d seen every trick in the book.
“You’re here about the Fairmont situation,” she said without looking up.
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