We got along with our neighbors, paid the HOA dues, maintained our property, and followed the recorded rules. I wasn't enthusiastic about every restriction, but I understood why communities sometimes needed reasonable standards for shared facilities, landscaping, and exterior changes.
Our HOA maintained common green spaces, walking paths, decorative lighting, and a small private recreation area.
It also reviewed exterior modifications and handled certain complaints between residents.
For years, the board had been led by a retired accountant who believed the association's job was to solve problems rather than create them.
He occasionally sent reminders about lawn maintenance or parking, but he generally preferred polite conversations to threatening notices.
Then he retired from the board.
A new president was elected.
The blonde woman in the pink blazer.
At first, she seemed merely enthusiastic.
She sent long newsletters about protecting property values and maintaining what she called the neighborhood's premium image. She organized landscaping inspections, complained about trash bins left near sidewalks, and promised to make Briarwood Lake Estates the most desirable residential development in the county.
Some homeowners liked her energy.
Others found her exhausting.
I didn't pay much attention until the notices began arriving at my house.
The first concerned a pool float visible through our fence.
The second complained about water marks on our patio.
The third claimed that a small storage cabinet beside our outdoor kitchen might be an unauthorized accessory structure.
I checked the governing documents and responded politely.
Most of the complaints didn't appear to violate any specific provision, and the association initially withdrew them when I asked for clarification.
Then the president began accusing us of creating sanitation problems.
That was when everything changed.
Our first sanitation notice arrived in late spring.
It claimed that stagnant water around our swimming pool was creating a risk to neighboring properties. I found that strange because the pool equipment was operating normally, and we'd recently completed a professional service inspection.
I asked what the inspector had observed.
The association sent a photograph.
It showed a small puddle near the edge of our patio following a rainstorm.
I stared at it.
My wife looked over my shoulder.
"That's rainwater."
I nodded.
She laughed.
"Apparently rain is illegal now."
I sent a response asking the association to identify an actual condition requiring correction.
The reply arrived two days later.
It stated that the HOA president had broad discretion to determine whether a property's condition threatened neighborhood health and appearance.
I wasn't convinced.
I read the recorded declaration and the applicable rules.