I needed it twice that winter.
Section 7.4
Grant and Gina Halvorsen bought the big gray house at the mouth of the court in 2019. He sold commercial insurance. He mowed in perfect overlapping stripes.
The first summer, he knocked on my door and said, “Love the neighborhood. Lot of potential.” I didn’t know then that he meant us.
In 2021 nobody wanted to be HOA president, and Grant raised his hand. Within a year we had a newsletter, a rule about trash cans and a rule about the color of front doors. Hector Ibarra, who lives next to me and works nights as an ER nurse, got a letter about his kids’ basketball hoop.
My first letter came three weeks after Jim’s funeral.
It said, in bold, that the vehicle in my driveway was “unsightly and inconsistent with community standards” and asked me to “explore storage options.”
I put it in a drawer.
