Take the Money and Run....

TAD spent the better part of a year breaking every promise he had made to the neighbors.  He bull dozed the house.  He left an empty lot just sitting.  He was a jerk about the parking. He managed to have everyone thinking he was a  creep.  He quit stalking me.  He quit coming around.  There was  a rumor he ran out of money and couldn't afford to build.  I got excited.  I wouldn't mind an empty lot next to me.  Then the "For Sale" sign went up. I was hoping to make him an offer.  But another developer bought the lot.  She grossly over paid for it.  TAD made more money than he should have for being such a jerk.  The lot is now a parking lot for the developer.  She's building two lots across the street.  She never puts silk fences around her properties either.  She's pushing the F.A.R. requirements to the maximum.  I really wonder about the math the City uses.  How houses those size can still have a pool and all of that concrete is beyond me.  The builders leave their trailers on the public right-of-way for days at a time.  My elderly neighbor complained to a council member who happened to be canvasing the neighborhood (to be re-elected), and the trailer was moved the next day. I'm beginning to get the feeling that this is the way our dysfunctional City government works.   First, there are a myriad of complaints about the problems associated with the developers.  (For example, the water run off problem).  The City council works to create ordinances to eliminate those problems.  The ordinances pass and people expect problems to be resolved.  The developers don't follow the codes. The City staff does not enforce the codes.  If  the neighbors notice and complain, the City sends a staff member out to smooth things over (Not necessarily enforce the codes, just resolve the immediate complaint).  However, if the neighbors don't notice or complain, the problems continue and expand until the problem gets big enough that it becomes an issue again.  Repeat the cycle.  Unfortunately, what is happening here is that people begin to think that City council members are the problem, when in fact, it's the City staffers not enforcing codes.  Our council members are becoming the de facto enforcers, bringing things to City staff attention when people complain to them.  But I do think it is fair to say that our council members are spending more time than should be necessary to manage problems that would have been prevented if codes were consistently enforced.

Reflections on a Ugly Scene in Your Neighborhood

The whole scenario of TAD screaming and yelling about the wasted time and energy on government regulations had me thinking.  I had never known that the actual code stated that the developer is supposed to put a silk fence around the entire perimeter of the property.  Had TAD done this immediately after bulldozing, my yard might not ever have started to erode.  Why hadn't the city enforced that from the beginning? An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure in medicine, but how many dollars to a city? And Freddie seemed to have a supernatural ability to remain calm in the most difficult situation imaginable. TAD had argued with him and told him he didn't know what he was talking about and personally attacked him, not to mention question his professional credentials. Yet, Freddie had remained stoic and professional.  Then there was that strange business at the end.  Why had Freddie asked me to choose how the code was enforced? Why had he even offered an alternative outside of what was required?  I was very uncomfortable about writing rules when the written ones weren't even being followed.  Why weren't the written rules followed first? It makes sense to write rules when a new situation comes up, but why write rules when the existing ones aren't even being followed?  The whole thing was a little strange.  TAD had said that Mike Griffin, the big boss of zoning, had told him he didn't have to follow the rules.  Why would the person at City Hall responsible for enforcing the rules be telling people that they could break them? Then it occurred to me.  Supposed Freddie was following orders, like he confessed to TAD.  Mike had told him to do something because I complained that there was a problem.  What if those were the standing orders of City Hall? Suppose that the great powers that be in City Hall had made a deal with the developers that the City wouldn't even bother to enforce the codes unless a problem occurred? And if there was a problem, rather than enforce the codes, they would just manage the problem on a case by case basis?  Freddie was following  orders from his boss. Which made me wonder, was Mike Griffin just following the orders of his boss, Jim Hansen?  About three weeks after this scene, I looked out of my window upstairs and saw the City was having to pump and clean the storm drains on the corner that are adjacent to the lot. Apparently, those silk fences do something, and not having them costs us tax payers a pretty penny.  Rumor has it that it cost about four grand to clean that mess up.  TAD never got a bill for that either.

The Good Ole Boy

When we returned home from our vacation, the vacant lot was a shock to us all.  TAD had not just bulldozed the house. He had flattened everything.  There had been three large oak tress on the lot, one of which was right next to the property line.  There was absolutely no reason to cut it down. But he had.  So I called the city shortly after returning and I filed a complaint with Mike Jones.  I explained the situation and I asked him to check the satellite photos, I was sure they had not updated yet.  Mike checked out the online photos and said that he could see them and they were large, and yes, he would look into it.  I asked about the palm trees in the right of way.  Mike is the one who told me that you had to have a permit for that too and that TAD never got one.  I was impressed with how little TAD seemed to respect the neighborhood.  Seems to me that if you're going to do business in a city, you would actually try to at at least pretend to care about the laws and codes. TAD sure wasn't.  It wasn't long before  I noticed another problem.  My fence and my yard were  getting washed away.  I went to pull weeds long the fence and I found all of these holes along my fence.  Every time it rained now, I was losing my property.  Along the fence, where that oak had once stood, it was really bad.  Within two rain storms, a cavern had formed under the rim of my driveway.  I also found a crack in my driveway that had never been there before.  Ripping that large oak out had unsettled the soil and the consequences were looking serious. I filed a complaint with the city immediately.  I figured I had two more rain storms before part of my driveway became unstable.   I was pulling weeds in the front yard a day or so later when TAD showed up.  He started off by thanking me for being the most reasonable neighbor around.  He lamented at how angry and unreasonable every one else  was.  Even neighbor to the south had had words of sorts with him.  Then he mentioned that my reputation as a PIA had proceeded me and that he had been warned (I'm assuming that came from the City), but I was turning out to be the best of the bunch. I looked right at him and said "Don't hold you're breath. This thing isn't over yet ."  I continued to pull weeds, but not for long.  Someone from the city had shown up, and TAD and I both watched him approach.  I got up and followed TAD into the lot where Freddie was standing.  TAD approached Freddie and I hung back, watching like a spectator.  Freddie announced that TAD would have to put a silk fence around the entire perimeter of the property. Then he cited the code that made this a requirement.  I was a little stunned.  If it was a code, why had the City waited so long to do or say something about it? TAD begin to argue with Freddie. He said that he didn't need a silk  fence everywhere because Mike Griffin had said so and he told Freddie to go talk to his boss and get his facts straight. Freddie, impressively stoic, calmly informed TAD that Mike sent him out and asked him to do this.  TAD went into a full blown tantrum.  "What changed" What kind of bullshit happened that I was told by the City that I didn't need an erosion barrier but now I do? That erosion barrier isn't going to do shit. " I was having hard time watching this scene.  TAD's behavior was completely appropriate for a five year old.  I was personally offended by the way he said that required things like erosion barriers didn't matter.  Especially when I was watching the consequences of life with out one.  Freddie's demeanor was more than admirable, it was sainthood material.  Freddie calmly told TAD that he could be fined if he failed to comply.  TAD turned purple and roared in his face while he did the angry dance.  "WHY? WHY NOW? THIS IS BULLSHIT". I wanted Freddie to fine him.  I wanted Freddie to throw the book at him.    Instead, Freddie looked down at his shoes and then looked up at me and answered matter-of-factly "We've had a complaint". TAD looked confused, and I raised my hand like a school girl "That would be me" I chirped with a smile. TAD looked at me, the red color draining from his face, and asked me "Why?". "It's called property damage TAD. I'm giving you the opportunity to do something to fix it.  My property is washing away." I answered firmly. TAD put his poker face back on and walked over to my yard to see what I was talking about.  Then TAD told Freddie that we didn't need him anymore because we would work it out together. H wrapped a paw around me and squeezed me for visual effect. I said "I get to pick who I work with and whose side I'm on. I'm working with Freddie".   I expected the City to be working with me. TAD said that erosion barriers were useless and that he would bring a truck of dirt and dump it along the fence. Freddie asked me if I was ok with that.  I asked him if it would solve the problem.  He said yes.  So I agreed to the dirt plan.  TAD took the opportunity to wrap a paw around me and squeeze me again while telling TAD what a nice person I was.  I looked right at Freddie and said "TAD is a forked-tongue devil.  Don't let him fool you." And I rolled my eyes while I peeled TAD's arm off before going into the house.










the

The Sh*T Stirrer

TAD was a very effective Pain-in-the-A$$.  He spoke to the woman on the corner south of me.  While he talked about his plans to build a spec house, he mentioned the parking problem.  (Prior to his conversation with her, there never had been a parking problem). But TAD made sure there was a parking problem by the end of his conversation with her.  TAD also made sure to create a parking problem.  My babysitter had been parking in the public right of way in front of the bulldozed house for about two years. Nobody cared.  TAD cared a lot however. The first thing he did was tell my south neighbor that parking was a big problem. The second thing he did was plant a giant thorn bush on the right of way exactly where my babysitter parked.  So she began parking on the cross street in the public right of way.  TAD immediately put an illegal barrier in the PUBLIC right of way, forcing her to park on the other side of the cross street.  She was still on the PUBLIC right of way, but next to south neighbor's yard.  South neighbor, was furious about having my babysitter park there.  What if she had company? What if she wanted to have someone park there? She didn't like the unsightly view of a car next to her house.  She immediately planted shrubs to shrink the space as much as possible.  TAD loved talking to her and telling her about how it would only get worse as he built a house, because all of those construction cars would need to park on the public right of way on his side, so my selfish babysitter would be parking on her side unless she held her ground and complained and did something.  My south neighbor quit speaking to me and there was this strange tension I didn't understand, because I wasn't privy to any of this information right away.  But it didn't take long to figure it out.  TAD would come over and tell me how angry south neighbor was and how we were all so mean and two-faced to one another.  I could see who was stirring the sh*t.  It was the one person who would never be living here.  It was the one person who wanted to make a quit buck, cash out, and move on.  LB and I both complained to the city about the barrier blocking the right of way.  The city made him move it.  The public right of way on the cross street fits about seven cars.  TAD wanted to annex the whole thing with landscaping to give the illusion of a bigger yard. I figured he was also going to play numbers with the FAR requirements and see how far he could bend the rules about impervious structures. TAD was the worst neighbor ever,  and we were stuck with him until he sold the house.  Which he hadn't even built yet.  *sigh* Meanwhile, the City made him move the giant thorn bush. It was a safety hazard to be sure, and the City knew better than to let that fly.  So TAD planted two large palm tress in my sitter's parking space. He did that without a permit, hence illegally.  Strange as it sounds, he was never fined for that. TAD didn't even bother to water the trees, so one died.  The City had to remove it, at tax payer expense. As far as  I know, he was never fined or billed for that either. So my tax dollars are spent cleaning up TAD's passive agressive messes. I wonder how many corporate messes our City cleans up at taxpayer expense without ever fining or billing these builders?   Why doesn't Jim Hansen worry about these unplanned expenses with the city budget?  Is the City Manager so cosy with the developers that he has a budget for that? I'd sure like to know.  My garden trellis seems so petty in comparison.

Asbestos clouds

We left for a three week vacation in July.  We spent a few days in Spokane, Washington, meeting cousins and uncles as we said good bye to DH's Aunt.  Then we drove to Mount Ranier National Park and basked in the glory of those mountains.  Stunning.  We were staying at a family resort, and having a wonderful time.  One of the interesting things about places like that is you have no cell phone reception. There was also no internet but the lodge had a wireless spot in the recreation room.  I happened to be playing ping pong with the girls when I got a call from my Neighbor, LB. It's probably the only reason why the call came through.  LB had already left me a message. He had been calling all day.  TAD had decided to bulldoze the house next door while we were away.  LB was warning me about the asbestos shingles that had been on the house.  The wind was blowing from the south and massive clouds of dust had been blowing on my house.  LB had video recorded the whole thing.  He really was a wonderful neighbor.  TAD was putting a capitol A on the name A$$h@le. That's why he had been stalking me. He was trying to figure out a time when we wouldn't be home. We had been gone for less then a week and he had already done this. Clearly, TAD had been planning this.  I talked to LB. He was very angry and upset.  So was I.  TAD had been telling everybody that he wasn't going to bulldoze the house. he had clearly been lying to everyone.  I really hate sleazy people. Why can't people just be honest? " I spent an hour on the phone and on the internet trying to learn what I could about asbestos.  It was a long, frustrating hour.  Not only was I mad about his lying about bulldozing the house, but i was fairly certain that those were asbestos shingles.  He had contaminated my house, knew he was going to, and did it so that I couldn't defend my property.  If I moved six inches in either direction from the window, my call dropped.  We were four hours behind Jacksonville. A couple of asbestos people didn't want to get involved since the actual asbestos belonged to my neighbor.  One guy said it would wash away in the first hard rain.  But everything we read about asbestos said that it would stay in the soil. I tried calling the state. I tried calling the city.  Building and Zoning were not even answering the phones.  I had to leave a message.  TAD had been very calculating with his plans. It cast a pall over our vacation.  I warned our house sitter to wear a mask when she entered or existed our home.   We would be gone two more weeks.  This made it impossible for us to manage the situation in any way, let alone an ideal way. Score one for TAD.  Illegally demolishing and dumping asbestos without getting caught.  Of course, he just said that there was no asbestos shingles.  But he certainly didn't offer us a sample to prove it and put everything to rest for good.  He just kept using his mouth. I  nicknamed him the forked tongue devil.

A Man of Many Faces

One warm, summer day, about a week after the house next door officially closed, I was informed that there was a man on my front porch who wanted to see me.  I went outside, lo and behold, it was TAD (The A$$h@le Developer).  We recognized each other immediately.  He had rescued me once; a very pregnant damsel in distress when my car died at an intersection and I was too pregnant to do anything but waddle around and tell my then five year old son to stay in the car.  That had been ten years ago.  TAD was glad I recognized him and remembered his good deed.  After a brief walk down memory lane, he informed me that he had bought the house next door.  The first thing he did was brag to me about the great price he got and how he might just turn around and sell it for more since he had bought it so cheap.  Well, there's nothing like someone bragging about ripping off your neighbor to get you started on the wrong foot.  When I asked him about bulldozing the house,  he hemmed and hawed and said he didn't really want to, but there was a lot of damage to the house but he could rent it...blah blah blah.  I've been in the house several times and it was in immaculate condition from what I had seen.  I guess it never occurred to him that I had actually been in the house. Then he starts telling me about how the adult kids were fighting at the closing and that's why he didn't even show up, he had signed the papers early.  He wanted to stay out of family politics.  This is the point where any good feelings about TAD and his rescue had been erased and replaced with suspicion and mistrust.  People tell you all about themselves if you listen carefully.  I was not liking what TAD had to say about the kind of person he was.  Suddenly, TAD was around everyday.  In the mornings, when I left the house, there was TAD.  In the evenings, when I left the house, there was TAD.  And he always wanted to chat.  He always wanted to know: What I was doing?  Where was I going?  What places did I go?  Sometimes, in the beginning,  I got away before the interrogations.  But he learned fast, and stood in front of my bike, or blocked the path to my house. If I tried to walk around him he'd just sweep a paw around me and squeeze me to his side, not letting go while he kept asking questions. It was like having a really nice stalker.  TAD is shaped like a football tackle, or a bear.  He's a tall, blond with a ruddy complexion from too much sun.  In fact, in my mind, I imagine that TAD was either the captain of the football team or the captain's dense side kick. I could totally imagine him stuffing nerds in lockers.  He was a high school bully all grown up, but he still seemed to be a bully.   One hot summer day, as he stood in front of my bike, making it impossible to walk the dog, I mentioned to TAD that we were going on vacation in July.  We would be gone for three weeks.  He quit coming around, and I should have known that was a problem.  He had gotten the information that he wanted.

A Series of Unfortunate Frauds Pt. 2

Within a week, the adult daughter of my deceased neighbor informed me that they had sold the house.  Cash. Well, it obviously wasn't a family.  The really strange part was the phone call I got later, from Ms. North Carolina.  She starts telling me how awful and unfair it all was.  She had wanted to buy that house and now a developer had taken it from her. I asked her incredulously "You made an offer on the house next door?" I had specifically told her that the kids didn't want to sell.  "Oh yes, and I thought they were going to take my offer but someone made a higher offer".  whine and sniff.  But her story was so bad, you could drive a truck through the holes.  First she was harassing the elderly in the hospital.  Now she was calling and making offers to people that weren't even supposed to be interested in selling.  And why was she spending so much time whining to me? She was definitely lying to me about her true interest.  I saw my neighbor across the street, Mr. Local Bachelor, and we chatted in his yard one morning.  He was mad about the way the sale of the house went down.  I didn't say anything. I wanted to hear what Local Bachelor knew.  LB was upset that the house would be bull dozed.  He had talked to one of the kids (they had all grown up together).  One of the sons was anxious for some cash, so he was pushing the others to sell.  Then he said "They have been played by these people.  They have two women that ride their bikes and walk around pretending to be new to the area looking for a house. Then people call them and start making all of these offers on the phone, but they aren't real offers, none of them are in writing. Then the developer calls and makes it look like he's the highest offer.  I keep telling the son they are being cheated. That lot is worth much more than they are getting. He won't listen to me. He's bought the bull sh#t hook, line, and sinker.  It's a shame." Holy Crap! It is a shame.  The Son had told me that the phone was ringing off the hook, but whose to say that it wasn't intentional to make it look like they were getting a lot of interest? What if one person (or group) was putting on a show? That would explain Ms. Carolina's behavior too.  She was calling to see what I knew and cover her tracks.  She's was trying to look like a victim when in reality, she was doing the dirty work.  I was disgusted with the whole thing. The developer debate had been going on as long as i have lived here, but finding out how they really operated  was leaving a bad taste in my mouth.  It was looking like a dirty deed done dirt cheap.

A Series of Unfortunate Frauds

I was working in my front garden one day, when a woman passed me riding her bike. As an afterthought she blurted as she passed "Do you know anyone looking to sell?" I looked up and saw her looking back at me and I said "Yes, I actually think I do".  Her face lit up as she turned around in the street and she came back to me. I met her on the sidewalk. She asked about the house on the corner next to me. I told her not to bother with that house, the kids weren't interested in selling.  However, I had two elderly neighbors, one of whom had told me that she wanted to sell sooner rather than later, and another couple that owned two houses, and they couldn't manage either very well.  She gladly gave me her information and the story went like this: She was a real estate agent from North Carolina and she was renting here while she tried to find a house. She was having a terrible time because there were not a lot of houses available. She had even sent flyers to every homeowner in my area expressing an interests and not one person had responded.  *sniff sniff*  It was all so sad.  It was such a trying time.  All she wanted was house.  After chatting with Ms. North Carolina, she went on her way and I went on mine.  Within a week, the FSBO sign went up in my neighbors yard. I'm so dense, I didn't even connect the two.  I called the number and spoke with one of the sons.  He told me that he had been approached and offered a lot of money.  The phone was ringing off the hook and they were taking the highest offer.  He was not interested in selling for less and preserving the home his dad had built. He made it clear to me that money was the only issue worth discussing.  I knew that the house would be bulldozed and I was sad to watch the dominoes start dropping, but there they went. Meanwhile,  I had given my elderly neighbor Ms. Carolina's phone number and they were touch.  My elderly neighbor, a retired real estate agent, is sharp as a tack.  She's one of those lucky folks who's lived into her eighties with a sound mind and the bull's share of her memory.  She mentioned to me one day that Ms. Carolina had called and they had gotten together and had a chat.  My sweet neighbor told me in the nicest way and in no uncertain terms that the Carolina woman was full of bull sh#t.  (My neighbor is such a lady that she would never use that exact word but she actually came close this time). That is the impression Ms. Carolina had given her. I was impressed with the strong words and the stronger image of negativity that my neighbor had for this Carolina character.  My neighbor just isn't the kind of person to  speak poorly of anyone, and the fact that she had such a strong, negative view of this person left quite an impression on me.  I figured that someone would have to be really exploding with BS to get my neighbor so unimpressed.  I promised my neighbor I would take her info to heart.  A few days later, I got a call from  Ms. Carolina.  In addition to meeting with my one neighbor, she had managed to contact my other senior neighbors and apparently the phone calls had stopped after an initial interest and she was so upset.  I gently informed her that one of the two was hospitalized.  Without a beat, she kept whining about her need to have a home in Atlantic Beach.  I thought that maybe she didn't hear me.  So I said again "She is in the hospital.  She's IN the hospital.  NOW. Right NOW! And it's not looking good". Then Ms. Carolina began to catch on and so she acknowledged that it was sad to have a spouse in the hospital but if she could just talk to the owner.  This is the part where I got really angry.  It's also the first time when I knew this woman had lied about at least one thing: being a southern native. No self-respecting southern woman would ever harass an elderly couple with one spouse in the hospital seriously injured over buying a house.  It just wouldn't happen. This woman was clearly not southern, and even if she was living in North Carolina part time, she hadn't been living there long enough to learn any common decency. It was like talking to a scarecrow stuff with BS instead of straw.

No More Evil Eyes, Puh-Leeze!

Every day I see at least one of you; a neighbor passing by; a runner, a biker, a family walking the baby in the stroller.  You look into my yard, a pit for my future pond, an oasis of sand with some weeds struggling to survive, and you sneer. You snort. You guffaw. You are disgusted with my front yard. Sometimes, while you are faintly within ear shot, I think I hear a muffling of "Why don't they do something with that yard?"   Well, did it ever occur to you that I have done something with this yard?   I've already spent more than five thousand dollars to get it here. I had to remove the berm and I had to get a new safety fence for the small children here. Please notice the high quality four foot vinyl fence. I did not get the cheap kind from Home Depot!  Then I spent more money to have a landscape designer draw some beautiful plans for my new garden.  One of the hardest (and most time consuming) things to  do was find a good carpenter to build the trellis. I had to line up six different people to do six different tasks in the yard. Then I provided a time table for the work and I lined every one up.  I spent more than a thousand dollars on that really beautiful trellis which lasted only ten days. You may notice that most of it is gone now.  Well, thank the City Manager for that.  The "Trellis Circus" completely derailed my project time table.  My project time table now looks like a baked potato from the microwave without holes poked in it.  If you ask the City Manager about the "Trellis Circus", I'm sure he will tell you that someone complained.  Keep in mind however that 1)  I wasn't finished with the yard. 2) Whoever complained doesn't live on this lot and 3) They don't pay my property taxes or my mortgage.  Furthermore, I find it disturbing that someone can "complain" anonymously, and have the power to veto what I do in my garden on my property.  Does anonymous live next door or a mile down the road? Apparently, unbeknownst to me (and possibly you) we live in a secret Home Owners Association.  If even one grumpy neighbor has nothing better to do than hate my yard, my plans are screwed and it's back to the drawing board. Is this your version of privacy? We moved into this neighborhood thirteen years ago because 1) We love the beach and 2) It's not a Home Owners Association and 3) It's an old-fashioned eclectic neighborhood.  Now, I know that there are an increasingly large number of people who moved to this neighborhood because of the new gentry millionaire club that's expanding here. I have no doubt that my front yard is an embarrassment because of how it reflects on their homes, but as far as I am concerned, if you are concerned about what my house does for your property value, than you are in the wrong neighborhood.  I didn't move here to impress anyone.  I moved here to live and raise my kids in peace.   This may seem crazy, but I really think that I should have the right to pretty much garden wherever I want and however I want on my property that I pay for. Furthermore, it might also behoove you to remember that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  You may think my garden is ugly, but I might think your house or yard is ugly too.  (This is especially true if you have St. Augustine grass in your yard. That stuff is a horror).  So I think it's best if we just agree that your yard is yours and my yard is mine. If some people can mind their business around here, I might be able to finish this project by August and catch the fall planting season.  So do me a favor, and stop the eye rolling when you pass by because no one is more disgusted with this yard than me.  If people had left me alone,  I would have raised beds now, and possibly an irrigation system.

Trees Glorious Trees

The City of Atlantic Beach has a very lovely tree canopy. This is especially true in the "old" section between the beach and Seminole Dr. Now back in the day, when all of my neighbors were young, and some were just kids, only weirdos lived at the beach (That's the way my neighbor described it to me). He said I would have fit right in (LOL). The local gentry and the highly educated didn't live out here on the island. They lived in Riverside or Mandarin; the civilized parts of town. Only people who walked to a different drummer lived out here. Even in the mid nineties, when my husband moved here, the beach was more populated but large parts of Jacksonville Beach were undeveloped and there were quite a few eye sores. However, big change was underway. The economy was booming and so were the builders. Developers were out here in droves. They couldn't build fast enough; and they weren't about to let silly things like trees get in their way. They just bull dozed and built. Well, this was a problem of sorts. One of the things that makes our city so beautiful and quaint is our tree canopy. We were losing something that you can't just go out and replace.Trees are one of the few things that really have an impact on your neighbor too. The shade, the wildlife, the leaves and debris; depending on your out look and such. Some of these magnolias and cedars are hundreds of years old. So the city decided to be pro-active and implement some rules and some fines. Palm trees are easily replaced. So you can still cut those down for free (Hallelujah). However, the hard wood trees, like our live oaks, the cedars, magnolias, and those rare beach pines. Those you had to conserve or pay a fee for a permit that required you to replace it with a certain number of like trees. You could pay a larger fine and not replace it. If a developer cut a tree down with out a permit, he was supposed to be in BIG trouble with a BIG fine. When we moved into this house, my neighbor had three large oak tress. They weren't monstrous like mine, but one of them was large enough to shade most of my driveway in my back yard. It was right along the fence line, in nobody's way. I really liked this tree. I got to look at it every morning from my bedroom and stand under it almost every day when the kids were having some outside time. Sadly, My neighbor died, and eventually, his kids were more interested in cash (unbeknownst to me). We had been told that they would NEVER sell, and I was happy knowing that they were NOT selling. So when the for sale sign went up, shock was my first response and horror was my second. It was like watching one of those domino mazes tumble down. You could kind of see the whole picture as the dominoes started falling but you weren't watching for the picture; you just couldn't help but watch all of those little dominoes rolling down one by one. While they were falling down, all you could think about was the history behind them. The work, the effort, and the story behind how it all got set up.

A Public Confession and Apology

I would like to make a public apology to the Great Powers that be in Atlantic Beach. First of all, I want to apologize for thinking that because other people in our community have arbors and trellises, that I somehow had the right to have one of my very own. That was my first mistake. I have no right, as a tax paying, law abiding citizen to assume that I am entitled to own anything in my front yard. Furthermore, I want to apologize for misunderstanding the need for a permit and applying for one when I didn't even need it. That was a huge mistake because, by default, the Great Powers that be had to believe that I needed one and act swiftly and appropriately. I screwed up even more by using the words pergola and trellis interchangeably on my permit application. This was a huge mistake on my part. While regular people in the community use those words interchangeably, they are actually two VERY different structures. One (pergola) requires a permit. The other (a trellis) does not. Right there, you can see how someone like me has created massive amounts of confusion and frustration for the city. This is exactly why tax paying citizens are not qualified to make decisions about their private property. I wish to take full responsibility for the snowball effect, the infamous slippery slope to hell, which I most definitely caused, by continuing forward with my gardening project without the permit that I did not need, expecting the Great Powers that be to use common sense when looking at my trellis and deem it nothing more than a trellis. Clearly, the expectation that city government is going to apply common sense with it's citizens only reveals a naive, trusting, Polly Anna "ish" attitude about government that is laughable (were it not so destructive when unleashed which is the lesson I have learned from my experience). I am most completely ashamed of this behavior. Finally I want to publicly thank Jim Hansen for resolving a zoning crises that lasted a whole week. From the moment my trellis was labeled an "illegally built home" to the "tent phase", I have spent a week on edge, biting my nails, anxious to hear the verdict about what I can and cannot do in my garden. Discovering that my trellis was "not a fence but regulated as such with height requirements" was devastating to my garden plans. However, I am now keenly aware of how incompetent I am to do what I want in my yard and I am deeply grateful to know that the Great Powers of Atlantic Beach are the loving Big Brother Orwell prophesied so that we don't destroy ourselves. I simply cannot imagine the horrors of living in a place where people might construct arbors over their own entranceways. The very idea that people would have "outdoor" doors is just absurd. Think of the impact on our property values! No doubt, once everyone had an arbor, in order to keep up with the "Jones's" we would all have to start growing gardens in our front yards. That would most certainly destroy our neighborhood. Everyone knows that people who garden start turning to chickens. We've all heard about those "Hens For Jax" anarchists and their crusade to have everyone owning farm animals. This is an upscale, gentrified beach community with mostly people who actually live here and a growing number of vacation homes. No one is buying homes here to watch it degrade to rural farms. Thank God for our City Manager.

The Unchartered Waters of the Absurd

Thursday evening a couple of friends both had the same idea: If the use of concrete is what defines a permanent structure just remove the concrete. It seemed to be a fairly obvious solution. So I e mailed Mike Jones and Mike Griffin and 1) apologized for confusing the situation in the beginning by using the words pergola and trellis interchangeable (pergolas require a permit and trellises do not). 2) informed both of them that I would remove the concrete so that I had nothing permanent by the sidewalk 3) emphasized the fact that I am trying very hard to live with the city codes (at least the ones I actually know), Finishing with "this should resolve the issue". Famous last words. Mike Griffin informed me at 8:30 Friday morning that my trellis was NOT a permanent structure. It was however "a tent or canopy and allowed ONLY for a maximum of four days". The jump from "permanent structure" to "tent or canopy" was bizarre; unchartered waters of the absurd. Having thought the problem was resolved and finding this goodie in my e mail, I was painfully aware of two things: 1) There would never be enough permit applications to go through with this. Clearly, the city wasn't interested in solving the problem and giving me a trellis. If a solution was desired by the powers by that be, I wouldn't have an e mail about tents. and 2) At least ONE someone was going through an awful lot of trouble with the city code to find any and every reason to deny the trellis. Calling a plant trellis a tent is a stretch....but I was stuck working with what I had. So I e mailed all elected officials in Atlantic Beach to come to my house that afternoon to look at the trellis and discuss whether or not the city should be using city codes to harass and disenfranchise gardeners when I am surrounded by developers (literally three construction sites) who violate our city codes every day costing us thousands. Carolyn Woods actually came and we discussed everything. Jonathan Daughtery e mailed me that he had a meeting and did not offer to reschedule. Maria Mark and I played e mail tag and by the time we made plans, the final blow had been given. I didn't hear from Mark Breckenbraugh or the outgoing mayor Mike Bono. Carolyn agreed to talk to Mike Griffin and sort things out. I heard from Carolyn Tuesday and it was not good news. Mr. Griffin consulted with the City Manager, Jim Hansen, and he found a little piece of city code that says "Plant structures are not fences but shall be regulated as such". This little bit means 1) I did NOT need a permit and 2) My trellis can't be taller than four feet. So if I have raised gardens that are three feet high to go easy on my back, there is a chance that I am only allowed a one foot trellis. Not wanting another fight with the city, I'm working on some alternative gardening scenarios. None of them will be as attractive as what I had planned but laws are laws and they MUST be obeyed. So guest and delivery folks are forever doomed to walk up to my fence and have no idea where the entrance is because it is illegal to have an arbor in my city. My husband spent part of his Independence Day celebration removing my garden trellis.

And Then There Was....a house *sigh* (not)

My landscape designer and I had several meetings to put together a vision for a garden that would be attractive, and more functional for me with my back problems. We agreed that raised beds that were at least two feet tall and going up to three feet would make weeding, pruning, and harvesting much easier for me. The children would each be given the lowest beds to plant whatever they wanted. This made it accessible for them, and it meant that I wouldn't be working too low to the ground. As we discussed the things that I have grown in the past, the need for a trellis was brought up my me. In the past, I have used tomato cages, chicken wire, and other metal props. However, I wanted the trellis to be more attractive and very functional. Once I decided that three of the beds would be put along the fence, it was easy to design a trellis that ran along the length of the fence. The structure defined the entrance, framed both the house and yard nicely, balanced the height of the house adding weight and dimension. It also served a very useful purpose. I planned to plant cucumbers, bean, and peas along the trellis. At my last meeting with the landscape designer, my kids were all over the place and I was trying to hear him clearly. I thought he said "You need a permit". So I applied for one. It was rejected. The strange part was that my permit rejection quoted the parts of the city code that pertained to building a building. I was told in my rejected letter that I would have to comply with all codes and regulations for permanent structures. Huh? When I asked Mike Jones to clarify and explain about arbors and jasmine, he said I was allowed to have jasmine, and then started talking to me about the need for setbacks to prevent property line wars and some other things that I didn't even understand well enough to repeat. So much for help from the City staff on understanding the problem. Then I called my landscape designer and told him about this strange development. He response was that he thought that I did NOT need a permit because landscaping doesn't require permits. He agreed to help me with the permitting process. Because he admitted "If you ask them for a permit, they will tell you that you need one." He had a great story that epitomizes Atlantic Beach. He once asked about a permit and there were two people from zoning in the room. He continued "I explained what I was doing and asked 'Do I need a permit?' One woman said yes while the other said no at the same time. They can't even agree on who does or doesn't need a permit". I told my husband all of this and said "I'm thinking of just building it. If I don't need a permit, and it's not in the city code, I should just build it". My husband, ever the pragmatist said "It won't work. You already filed for one. If you don't finish the process, they will come after you." "But how can I get in trouble if there is no code about it? You can't just go after people and punish them for living their lives. I'm not building a building. I'm building a plant trellis. How can that be wrong? How can a person get in trouble for something that is allowed? Read these codes cited. They all say "permanent. What's permanent about a plant trellis? There is nothing permanent about a plant trellis. I'm seriously thinking that the whole thing is a huge misunderstanding. Maybe the people didn't understand by looking at the plants that it was a trellis?" I considered the situation. When I started this project last fall, my goal had been to have the whole project finished in May. It was almost July. Going back for a permit meant that we could spend weeks or months arguing about the difference between a pergola and a trellis. I was very uncomfortable with the prospect of getting a permit for something that wasn't supposed to need one. Furthermore, I am very suspicious of city staff because of my run ins with the City Manager. All staff work for him. (I'll explain this mistrust in a future blog). Finally, the idea that I could be held up a month or longer playing semantics weighed on me so heavily, that I decided to chance it. It was bad enough that I missed the whole spring planting and the summer planting. The idea that I would miss out on fall too seemed so awful and unfair. I figured anyone would be able to look at it and admit two things. 1) It was a plant trellis and 2) It was an improvement over the current state of my yard: a giant pit of sand with a big hole for my new and improved pond. I had the trellis built. For a whole week I had this beautiful new trellis in my yard. Every time I looked out my front window, I smiled. A week later, I had a masonry man over to finalize plans for the raised beds. As he was leaving I discovered a city employee, Mike Jones, standing in front of my property on the phone. This is my recollection of that conversation: "Are you the property owner?" Mr. Jones asked. "Yes I am" I answered. "Did you build this pergola?" He asked me. "No, it's not a pergola. It's a plant trellis." I explained. "Did you apply for a permit to build a pergola?" He continued. "That was a mistake on my part. It is not a pergola. It's a plant trellis. I never wanted a pergola. I just want a plant trellis." I clarified. "Did you use concrete when you installed these poles?" He asked. "Yes I did. I don't want anything flying around in the event of a wind gust or a storm". "This is an illegal permanent structure." He announced in a hostile tone. "It's a plant trellis. Are you looking at it? It's for plants." Big eye roll here with "duh" tone of voice and grand gesture to the trellis. "When you use concrete, you are creating a permanent structure. It's the same as building your house," he explained matter-of-factly. "Come here with me," I beckoned. "No, I am finished talking to you," he shouted as he turned away. "No you are not! "I shouted back. "I pay taxes here and you work for the city. You're job is to help me". I shouted. Then I turned and started walking down my sidewalk towards 13th Street. "Where are we going?" he asked. "Right here", I answered standing almost at the corner. "Do you see that house with the jasmine covered arbor? I want one of those. Explain to me why I can't have one." I demanded. "That was built before my time here, and I can't explain it. What I know is that you can't put permanent structures by the sidewalk". He reiterated. "Are you really telling me that you think that my trellis is the same thing as my house," I asked him incredulously. "I don't know what I'm telling you," he answered as he turned and began walking to his car. "Can I get that in writing from you?" I followed after him. "It's an illegal structure and it needs to be removed." He reiterated. "It's a plant trellis. It's not a permanent structure. I can take it down today". I argued. "Well you might have to," he countered smugly. "It's against the code and you can't do it. You will have to talk to my boss". He finished. "I'm talking to a property lawyer. Maybe I will have him talk to your boss". I shot back. And with that I stormed into my house. I did what any angry woman would do. I called one of my best friends and started talking. Moments into my recount of events, my son interrupted me to tell that Mr. Jones was back at my house. "Mr Griffin, my boss wants to invite you to his office to discuss this." "I am too angry to discuss anything with Mr. Griffin right now. I am angry and emotional and I am on the phone with a journalist. Furthermore, today is my fun day with my kids. I am supposed to be at the library now. I have plans to go bowling and to the pool with a friend. I do not want to sacrifice my plans with my kids to discuss with your boss the difference between a plant trellis and a house. And frankly, I don't think that it is helpful to discuss anything when people are angry. Maybe tomorrow, I will go to his office." Mr. Jones gave me his card and left. I told my friend "Thank God you are a journalist, even if I'm not talking to you in that capacity". And we had a good laugh over that little bit. I did talk to a lawyer's assistant, who was floored by the trellis story. I waited for the lawyer to call. The rest of my day went exactly as I had planned it.

The Quiet Before the Regulation Storm

When you buy a house in a municipality, you are agreeing to any laws that they have regarding your private property. I just never imagined that any city would have laws as restrictive as an HOA. I also never imagined living in a city in which the city staff interpret the city codes as restrictive as possible (If you're a private citizen. If you're a developer, you are above the codes). It never occurred to me that city staff would provide information in the most confusing and misleading terms as possible. Rest assured, If you live in Atlantic Beach Florida, you are living in a city that makes frustration an art form. One of the things I learned five years after buying my house is that I have to garden in my front yard. My back yard is completely shaded in the summer with two live oaks and two bay trees. I also have an orange tree, a lemon tree and a tangelo tree. The blessing of this shade is that it's cooler and the kids can play outdoors more than expected in the Florida heat. However, you really can't grow a garden in the shade. I know. I tried. So I have been gardening in the front yard for the last four years. I am not what one would consider an "accomplished" gardener. I am however, a dedicated amateur. My children find gardening to be almost magical. Over the last few summers, I have had to remove more and more of my flowers in the front yard to make room for the vegetable beds. A couple of years ago, we built raise beds. However, they were only 12 inches tall. With my herniated disc, this made weeding and pruning grueling and painful work, despite my passion for my hobby. I did the best I could, but my gardening was restricted by my own physical limitations. Last fall, As we were leaving my home with all four kids, my two year old ran out of the house and straight for the street. I told my husband in the car, "We need a fence in the front yard". We had a berm in the front yard, almost three feet tall. I knew that a fence would make the total height seven feet; Well above the city code regulations of four feet. So I told my husband, "In order to put a fence up to keep the kids safe, we are going to have to drastically change our front yard". So we agreed. In December, we dismantled the flag stone berm I have loved for years, and we had someone come and remove most of my front yard with a mini bulldozer. In January, with the City's blessing (a permit), I installed a four foot white vinyl fence around my front yard. However, there was an unforeseen problem with the fence. People would walk up to my house and stare at it, clearly confused about where the entrance was. The entrance gate looks just like the fence. So when I began to work with a local landscape designer, we agreed that an arbor would be a great way to define the entrance to the house. This positive intention was the first paver to the road of City regulation hell.