input with options: Everybody knew Shandor Marley's mother liked to spend more time flirting with serial killers than she did taking care of things at home. So when her son went round with an air rifle popping his neighbours like they were allotment pigeons, they figured all the boy really needed was a bit of attention. Shandor finally flipped one day after finding out the inbred farm boys who made his life hell most days were in fact his half-brothers. He returned home to confront his mother only to find her pritt-sticking press cuttings of the Mad Killer into a brand new scrapbook and seemingly not in the least bit concerned by her son's unexpected discovery. Luckily Shandor's shooting spree didn't do too much damage beyond putting one of his so-called new father's eyes out, which could be considered doubly unfortunate given as the so-called new father in question owned the old byre Shandor and his mother called home. After Shandor had spent enough time shut away in borstal with the kind of kids who would've sent his mother all weak at the knees, he went straight home half-expecting the byre to be boarded up with a blu-tacked note saying she was lugging her stupid arse to Texas to spring her latest psycho boyfriend from his cell on death row. Shandor was thinking how much that excuse would sit well with her as he scuffed up the stone track to the byre with a black bin-bag of belongings and a sunburned arm across his forehead to shield himself from the glare. The place looked pretty much the same as he remembered it, only three years worse off. The strip of grass outside the back door was parched yellow and paint peeled around the blown-out windows. He had a hand on the door before he knew for sure it was still lived-in. He flapped thunderbugs off his forearm and creaked open the door. The kitchen stank of stale cigarettes and the dregs of spirit bottles. Question: at the end of the story, shandor probably: === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- cleaned up the house
- found his mother sleeping
- not enough information
- found his mother in the house
output: found his mother in the house

Q: Much like the Grand Old Duke of York, who had ten thousand men and marched them up to the top of the hill, and then marched them down again, I can't get enough of York (because he visited repeatedly, that was obvious, right?) Having visited nearly half a dozen times over the years, and somehow not managing to share it on my blog over the years, I would say that although you could visit from London for the day, I wouldn't. Go for a minimum of an overnight stay, or a few days if you can. Witness a misty morning, and a candy coloured sunset, wander out into the Dales or slip in a seaside visit somewhere like Scarborough, and really get to know the ancient city. Alas, I haven't really learned how to take my own advice, but hot on the end of a family visit in Lincolnshire we were lucky enough to spend sometime with one of my favourite expats on Yorkshire (ok, ok, I only know two, but they are definitely in the top two of that limited ranking system). It was of course Amanda, her fabulous husband Sam and we got to meet their gorgeous new addition to the family, a mischevious Dachshund pup who goes by the name of Harold. Instagram was alive with "OOOOOOOH MY GOD YOU GOT TO MEET HAROLLLLLD" Forget being a rockstar in this day and age, puppy dog eyes are all you need to make ladies weep and then squeal into their keyboards. We tumbled off the train, cheeks ruddy from the fresh the North Sea breezes (fresh from visiting the Seal colony with a litany of pups at Donna Nook, and nibbling fish and chips with the family in Cleethorpes) and went wandering. I'm going to make a big claim here if you're travelling through the UK and can only fit in one city visit outside of London, York or perhaps Bath would be excellent choices. Compact enough to really explore, full of ancient buildings and history, and good cake. What more do you even need? Question: How large is the seal colony at Donna Nook? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- less than 30 seals
- more than 100 seals
- 30 to 100 seals
- not enough information

A: not enough information

Last month we spent a few wonderful days visiting our friends Rosa and Massimo who live just outside of Trento. It was our third visit to the area (on one of them I snapped up this recipe for persimmon cake), so I feel it's about time to share some our favourite things that we've been shown by locals. Trento is only a four hour drive from Florence passing Bologna and Verona on the way, which could make very good pit stops if you feel the need to, FYI yet it feels a world away in terms of the landscape and the food, from the golden, rolling hills of Tuscany. Cue towering mountains harbouring mushrooms and berries, lush valleys and turquoise lakes, vines grown on pergolas, enormous plates of sauerkraut and polenta in abundant portions, delicious wines and rustic cakes with German names. Trento is the capital of Trentino, an unusual region of Italy because its official languages are Italian and German and it is actually made up of two self-governing provinces and is known as Trentino-Alto Adige or Trentino-Sudtirol. Confused? Since the eighth century, it has been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and only a century ago did it become Italian. It is squeezed between Lombardy and the Veneto to the west and southeast and to the north lies Austria and Switzerland. So it is no surprise that many of the food influences come from its neighbours particularly the northern ones. Eating in the region means eating heartily, even in the summer sunshine, we enjoyed abundant portions of canederli (large rustic dumplings made of bread, herbs and meat, ham or cheese in broth), masses of soft, creamy polenta with thinly sliced roast pork or sausage ragu and slow-cooked beans or thick venison steaks, sauerkraut and gnocchi (sometimes made of out of polenta). I think one waiter was highly disappointed that we weren't able to finish our gargantuan plates one hot day on a mountain with a view of the Dolomites. Somehow there was always room for dessert, though adopted from German and Austrian specialties, you can find cakes... Question: After the end of the story, the author will probably: === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- return to Trento
- not enough information
- never return to Trento
- not leave his house again

Answer:
return to Trento