My new neighbors are turning into a nightmare. Today, I cleaned up their trash in our yard that included several half-empty Bud Ice tallboys and a (shudder) dirty diaper.→[More:]

We were so happy for a while.

The house was built and occupied since the 1950's by a racist old coot named Wayne. At one point in history, Wayne owned the entire neighborhood that we live in - the subdivision still bares his name. Mind you, this in is Lake Highlands in central Dallas, where real estate's a premium asset. He lived alone in a small but tidy place on an acre of land.
He was a mean old fuck, capable only of hate for anyone not white, straight, and Christian, dropping more n-bombs in casual conversation than your favorite gangsta rapper. My girlfriend and her ex picked up the acre they built their house on (and where I now reside) for an astronomically low sum about 5 or 6 years ago because they lied and said they were "normal". They had weird troubles with him that extended into my era of living here. I'll save those stories for another time.

Sometime last year, the octogenarian's mind started to slip. We'd see him mowing his lawn 2 or 3 times a week. His son started showing up at his house more and more, then one day in December Wayne was gone, hauled off to a home. I hope his male attendants are the blackest, gayest nurses that ever walked the earth. He deserves nothing less.

The house was gutted, refinished, and put up for lease at a damn reasonable price. We tried our hardest to find friends to occupy it, but we were unsuccessful. A couple of weeks ago, a family moved in. We were alerted of this development by shrieking children and thumping Tejano music at 9 a.m. Not a good sign. We'd been hoping for quiet neighbors that'd leave us alone, and instead got noisy ones that leave us alone.

A week ago, I tried to say hello but found myself up against a language barrier. I received a nod and a brief half-smile, followed by a back turned to me. My Spanish sucks and I didn't feel like embarrassing myself with it, so I let it be.

I first noticed the garbage starting to pile up late last week. There's a shallow drainage ditch that separates the front yards on our street from the road. The ditch area between our property and the neighbor's was finding itself more cluttered with refuse every day. We went out of town for a few days, and when we returned last night I couldn't help but notice that, hey, there's a lot of trash in the ditch.

Early this evening, I went outside to get the mail and couldn't take it any more. The neighbors were out in their back yard at the time, so I stood by the trash ditch in a passive attempt to get them to pay attention to me/it. They didn't, so I scooped up most of it with a big dustpan and threw it in our container. "It", as mentioned on the front page, contained a fucking dirty diaper, which I didn't recognize until it was in the pan. Ugh.

I have no idea why they're doing this. We have twice-weekly garbage service and giant cans. The neighborhood is a great mix of middle-low to middle class homesteads, and while it's far from perfect it is relatively clean. I have Wayne the owner's son's number, and as soon as the next blight hits the ground I'm going to give him a ring. I'm not about to call the city/cops - I don't know where we stand, legally, and besides I really, really dislike the police and want as few interactions with them as possible for the rest of my life. I don't like the idea of calling the owner either, but... a dirty goddamn diaper. Ack.

Sorry for the ramblings - I needed to get it out. Any suggestions on other ways to deal with this minor-but-disgusting life problem, preferably not ones that involve firebombs or other extreme acts of passive aggressiveness?