How would the fire department access the rear of the home? They have axes, Patricia.
Big ones. They don't need the combination to my master lock."
She didn't like that. Her lips pursed into a thin line, disappearing entirely.
"The lock comes off by Monday morning or the fines begin, and I will be checking personally." You're telling me?
I said, stepping a little closer, lowering my voice to that dangerous level of calm. That you intend to enter my private property without my permission whenever you feel like it.
It is not private property when it concerns the association, she snapped. You signed the covenants when you bought the house.
We have the authority. If you obstruct an inspection, we can place a lien on your home.
Do not test me, Michael. I have been on this board for 20 years.
I have seen residents come and go. The ones who cooperate stay.
The ones who don't. She let the sentence hang in the air.
A threat wrapped in polyester. "The ones who don't what?"
I asked. "Disappear into the subsurface water?"
"They find that living here becomes difficult." She smiled.
It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a shark that had just spotted a seal with a limp.
"Monday, 8:00 a.m. Gate unlocked. Have a blessed day."
Have a blessed day. She turned on her heel and marched away, her sensible shoes clicking on the pavement.
I watched her go, the rage simmering in my gut like a pot of chili left on the stove too long. I looked at the letter again. $150 a day.
That was over four grand a month. It was extortion.
But it wasn't about the money. It was about the principle.
It was about the fact that she wanted to be able to waltz into my backyard, probably to critique my lawn furniture or complain that my grass was a millimeter too high, and use drainage as the excuse. I walked back into my house and slammed the front door.
The sound echoed through the hallway. I went straight to the kitchen, poured the cold coffee down the sink, and pulled a beer out of the fridge.
It was 10:00 a.m. on a Saturday. I didn't care.
I sat at the kitchen island and stared at my phone. I needed a plan.
I couldn't fight the HOA on their own turf. They had the lawyers, the bylaws, and the sheer boredom-fueled determination of retired people with nothing better to do.
If I fought them in court, I'd go broke before they ran out of meetings. I needed a loophole.
I needed something that superseded the HOA bylaws. I scrolled through my contacts and found Dave, lawyer.
Sort of. Dave was an old college buddy.
He wasn't a property lawyer. He was a corporate contract guy, but he knew how to read the fine print better than anyone I knew.
I hit dial. "Mikey," Dave answered on the second ring.
To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you finally decide to sue that pizza place for putting pineapple on your order?
"Worse," I said. "HOA."
"Oh, gross. Hang up.
Sell the house. Move to a van down by the river.
It's the only way." I'm serious, Dave.
The president, this lady, Mrs. Higgins, she's claiming she needs unfettered access to my backyard for drainage inspections. She wants me to leave the gate unlocked all day, every day.
She threatened to fine me $150 a day if I don't. Dave let out a low whistle.
Drainage, huh? That's the classic catch-all.
It's hard to disprove without hiring your own geological surveyor. What do the bylaws say?
She quoted some section about emergency maintenance and preventing blight. Yeah, standard boilerplate.
Here's the thing, Mike. If you signed the CC&Rs, covenants, conditions, and restrictions, you technically gave them permission to enter for specific reasons.
If you lock them out, you are technically in breach of contract. So, I'm screwed.
I just have to let this lady wander around my yard while I'm trying to work. Not necessarily, Dave said.
I could hear him typing on a keyboard in the background. See, there's a difference between access and liability.
If they demand access, they assume the liability for entering the property. But if there is a known hazard on the property and you have adequately warned them, the liability gets tricky. it shifts.
If the property is deemed hazardous for entry due to say construction or security measures, they can't just waltz in without assuming the risk of bodily harm. Security measures?
I asked. Like a dog?
A dog is good, Dave said. But dogs are tricky.
If a dog bites someone, even an intruder, depending on the state, you can be put down. I mean the dog, not you.
And you could be sued. But if it's not a pet, if it's livestock or a security animal that isn't classified as a domestic companion.
Livestock. I looked out the window at my manicured suburban lawn.
Dave, I live in a subdivision. I can't have cows.
Check your zoning, Dave said. Not the HOA rules. the city zoning.
Sometimes the city ordinances supersede the HOA restrictions, especially regarding sustainability or urban farming. A lot of places passed laws recently allowing chickens or other fowl to encourage self-sufficiency.