And inspections create delay.
One afternoon, while my crew prepared to install one of the final western panels, a county vehicle pulled into the yard.
A code enforcement officer stepped out.
His name was Reynolds.
He wore work boots, a county polo shirt, and the expression of a man who had already had too much conversation that day.
“Who’s responsible for the site?”
“I am.”
He handed me a notice.
“We need construction paused while I verify a complaint concerning height and setback deviation.”
Behind his truck, on the public roadside, Vanessa stood near her white SUV.
She did not cross onto my land.
She had finally learned at least that much.
My contractor looked at me.
“What do you want?”
“Stop.”
The drills went silent.
A worker lowered the panel back onto supports.
Another climbed down from a lift.
Across the road, Vanessa folded her arms.
She smiled.
Not much.
But enough.
For about forty-five minutes, construction stopped.
Reynolds took measurements.
Foundation edge to survey marker.
Column height.
Roof elevation.
Western setback.
He compared everything with the stamped plans.
Then he measured again.
Vanessa eventually approached to the roadside edge.
“Officer.”
Reynolds looked up.
“The approved structure was never supposed to be twenty feet along this boundary.”
He turned toward the drawing.
“It says twenty.”
“The owner changed the design after the vegetation was removed.”
I said nothing.