The HOA Fined Me for Swimming in My Own Lake, But They Had No Idea I Knew How to Expose Every Dirty Record

arrived from California in a white BMW with personalized plates and enough self-importance to fill a courthouse. Within six months she had maneuvered herself into HOA president. At first she treated me like a curiosity, clicking down my gravel driveway in heels with store-bought cookies, making comments about my rustic charm, suggesting she could help continue reading …