🌱 Guard Your Garden: New Rules Target Residents’ Plants

The HOA claims the right to uproot our gardens without notice — While banning the very cameras that could hold them accountable.

It’s like the midnight gardening Grinch is creeping down your chimney

Only instead of snatching gifts, it’s deporting your potted succulents.

You can almost hear the minutes being read: “Motion to remove all unauthorized foliage.” The language is formal, the intent is bureaucratic, and the result is accidentally hilarious. If any organization could make a rubber plant look like contraband, it’s ours.

The HOA at 825 / 855 / 875 La Playa St. has proposed new rules. Residents who speak up now face ambiguous email bans under subjective criteria, or even restricted access to common areas, and — most absurdly — the seizure of plants without notice.

These proposals read less like community management and more like an assertion of power, with the plant-snatching rule as the crown jewel of overreach.

Buyers, sellers, and current residents: keep a close eye on your plants, your emails, and your rights.

At 825 / 855 / 875 LaPlaya St., the HOA’s priorities are clear:

  • Graffiti covering walls? Ignored for months, even after the City issued a notice.

  • Sidewalk chalk written once or twice? HOA runs to the City and bills thousands in “legal fees.”

  • Proposed new rules? Seize residents’ plants without notice, restrict emails, ban cameras, and even limit common area access.

It’s almost comical — unless you’re the one being fined or threatened.

We’ve documented not only our own reformed, rule-following plants but also violating plants belonging to board members themselves. Somehow, their plants are safe, while yours could be snatched at any moment.

This isn’t about photosynthesis, printing, or political policies. It’s about a tyrannical HOA board that targets residents who speak up while excusing their own violations. Buyers and sellers: ask yourself if this is the kind of governance you want tied to your property price?

Read the new rules here.


It happened on a Tuesday, between the usual 9:00 a.m. bulletin-board sanctimony and a mildly passive-aggressive email about trash-can placement. Two terracotta pots went missing.

Was it a coordinated raid? A secret midnight sting? Or simply the HOA’s new “landscaping compliance squad” finally misreading the phrase “green initiative”? No one will ever know for sure. What we do know: the spectacle—the suits, the exaggerated expressions, the slow, reverent cradling of succulents—was a performance piece that would make any community theater jealous.

The comedy comes from the mismatch — the gravitas they bring to what is, at most, a small potted shrub’s life crisis.