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When a Boundary Is Finally Enforced
Leaning against it was Karen, head of the local homeowners association. She had made no secret of her dislike for my farm. To her, it didn’t fit the image she wanted for the neighborhood.
I asked her to move the car so I could do my work. She brushed it off, as if feeding livestock were optional. I tried to handle it through the usual channels—calling the sheriff, raising it at a meeting—but the situation didn’t change. The next day, the car was still there.
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