I come home from a day at school with only four weeks left (that ought to tell you what the days are like) only to find that the well meaning maintenance men had pruned the beautiful fruitless mulberry tree in my front yard. Well, I don't call it pruning. Butchering trees is one of my most passionate pet peeves, and a lot of well meaning, industrious people do it. For instance, they saw a huge limb off leaving a two or three inch stump sticking out, which will rot, harbor bugs and invite disease (see picture #1), or they saw a limb off in the middle (see picture #2) which will sprout all kinds of little sucker limbs if it doesn't die from disease and insects. I am almost devastated. That tree was like a huge green umbrella, with limbs and leaves shading the whole front yard and the entire house from the pounding, scorching sun coming up in the East; it was handsome. As Mark Twain would say, "It looks like something that Congress got ahold of." Oh well, soon I will move next door to a China berry tree that they practically decimated. I could go on and on, but I won't, because I am almost embarrassed, but not quite; it seems that all I do is gripe. Forgive me I just had to get it off my chest.