Trash Day is Litter Clean-up Day

One bag was almost too little

As we’re moving into the spring months, lawn care becomes more of a priority. Mowing and trimming need to happen before the grass gets too tall to mow, and we’re also watering our gardens and trees regularly (when it’s not raining, as it has been the last week). With all this additional attention on the yard, we notice other things more often as well. One of these is all the litter that blows in from our neighbour’s lawn.

I don’t bother every week, but this never-ending cycle of picking up their trash has frustrated me since they moved in almost a year ago. At first, we wrote it off to the post-move-in throw-away, which happens after any big move as people dispose of their cardboard boxes and things they brought but realized they didn’t need. Over the months, it became apparent that our neighbours were just trashy. We’ve learned that they are metal scrappers, who take apart things like hot water heaters and washers/dryers to pull out the recyclable metal and sell it; that’s all fine and well, but why does so much paper and styrofoam have to be strewn about?

It’s about 30 minutes at a whack to clean everything up. I’ve reported them once to the Department of Health because their backyard had gotten so piled up with stuff that we were afraid of storms tossing their junk into our house and causing damage, in addition to the even more likely matter of snakes and rats becoming more abundant. After that, they got rid of a lot of the junk, and the backyard is about four times better now. Nevertheless, it’s not great.

I’ve gotten all of the litter out of our yard for now, so there’s that. Unfortunately, I’ll have to do it again before too long, and keep doing it until they move out. I could be more aggressive and confront them about it, but I’m not sure how to introduce that conversation. And more to the point, it’s not like they’re not aware that their yard is full of trash that gets blown around the neighbourhood. They know, it just doesn’t bother them.

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