Jon's back ached. Frost had come early this year and the ground broke like stone. Jon had spent eight seasons breaking this ground to plant spring's crops and every year it got harder. Sweat beaded on his brow and he felt his cotton shirt stick to his skin under his coat. Jon took off his soft-brimmed hat and wiped his forehead. He examined the hat as he let his breath return. The hat had kept the burning sun and beating rain off his head for as long as Jon owned the farm. He wore it every day. It had been a gift given to him on the day he married Alasandra but he could not remember who gave it to him. Jon put it back on his head and pushed the tiller deep into the stubborn earth. Daven ran over the hill and down the cart path leading to their small cobblestone house. The boy had only left a short while ago and he held no sack with the bread and cheese his mother had told him to buy. Jon furrowed his brow. The boy continued to run and soon the wind carried his cry to his father's ears. "Papa! A carriage is coming! Two horses!" Jon's furrowed brow remained. Surely the boy meant a cart from a neighboring farm. No carriage made it out this far. "It's from the city! A soldier drives it!" Jon felt ice water flow over him. He turned to the house. "Sandra! Get the musket out of the pantry!" Jon saw his wife's face appear at one foggy window. Jon gestured wildly at her. "Get it!" They were too late. As Daven reached Jon, the black carriage already approached. A single figure sat on the bench, guiding the two brown horses down Jon's path. Who warned Jon about the carriage? A. Alasandra B. not enough information C. the wind D. Daven
D

(Question)
My then-teenage daughter and I went to a new restaurant. It was empty apart from the manager. We were told to find ourselves a table, so we sat in an attractive area sort of like a small stage. No waitress came by for 10 minutes, so we decided to visit the restroom; there was just one, with one toilet. But a woman rushed in ahead of us, carrying a bundle of clothes. Several minutes later, when she reappeared, we realized this was our waitressarriving late and pushing us customers out of the way so she could change. OK We each used the restroom and returned to our table. But it was not our table anymore. Along came the manager to explain she needed to set aside the stage-like area for a very special group. My daughter and I had already been debating whether to stay or leave. We stayed only because we were very hungry and worried that we'd have to start waiting all over again if we tried a different place. We were led to our new table: a lonely little table in the hall leading to the toilet. I was ready to get out of there, pronto, but my daughter spotted her favorite meal on the menu. But after another 15 minutes, with the lone waitress not appearing, we both shook our heads and got up Oh, here's the waitress! We ordered. Fifteen minutes later, no food. We got up again and exited past the stage-like area, which was just as empty as it had been when we were ejected. The very special people had not arrivedso (had we been served) we could have enjoyed our meal right there. We did find food elsewhere. The first place closed in less than a month. Good riddance! They ordered their food: A. before they used the bathroom B. after they used the bathroom C. after the special people arrived D. not enough information
(Answer)
B

Ques: Despite my blog name, I'm not actually all that adventurous. Think more suburban adventure rather than skydiving or wild camping. But, over the years I have ended up overcoming a few challenges that I hadn't precisely expected to be faced with. This blog has always been, and will forever more be a record of my personal adventures. It is a journal of the chaos, delight, opportunities and travails that we encounter all rolled in with an obsession for photography (as far as my skillz extend) and a dash of humour (well, I try anyway). DRIVING IN AMERICA Covering 800 miles of American freeways in less than 10 days is something I never thought I'd do to be honest an inexperienced driver at best I've driven short distances (and through a Florida tropical storm from Cape Canaveral back to our Orlando apartment) but somehow we survived unscathed driving diagonally the length of Louisiana from New Orleans to Shreveport, through the crazy traffic of Dallas and along the long, undulating motorways of Texas. I'll be honest, and admit that did we encounter a couple of challenging and scary situations a truck driver changing lanes not allowing me enough time to enter a motorway (I luckily just popped into a shoulder lane), getting lost in the middle of Dallas skyscrapers (we jammed every device we had onto navigation), accidentally assuming a road was much narrower than it really was (luckily the road was relatively quiet so I just guided her nimbly over to the correct lane) and dodging some of the twits who pulled out in front of us one with a trailer full of wood but overall it really was fine. COMMUNICATING IN OTHER LANGUAGES You've decided where to go, booked the flight, found a hotel, decided what to do and then you get to your destination. And, if you're exploring outside the traditional western world, you probably won't speak the local language and the locals may or may not depending on how far outside the tourist traps you venture. How long has the author probably been writing the blog? A. Several days. B. Several years. C. Several months. D. not enough information
Ans: B

Ques: Diane's heart felt leaden as she prepared to leave. Each face she looked at, she knew she was seeing for the last time. As if she were dying and they all were going to live on. Oh, why must I leave? Now, when all of you are about to put on the martyr's crown, how can you cast me out? I want to die with you. I do not want to go on, stumbling through this world alone. For years these people had been her only family. When she was a child, her faith was preached and practiced openly all over the south of France. The crusade was already twenty years old then, but the perfecti still taught crowds of people in the streets of great cities like Toulouse and Beziers, still won converts away from the Church of Rome. From the lords and ladies in their castles to the peasants on the mountainsides, over half the people were Cathars. Now this year, one thousand two hundred forty-four, might come to be remembered as the year Catharism in France disappeared. From now on there would be nothing but a remnant in hiding, having to sneak about. No, she didn't want to live that way. She longed to throw herself down and beg Bishop Bertran once again to let her stay. But duty pressed down upon her like a mail shirt. It was burdensome, but it protected her from error. She quietly made ready. Before long, Diane and Roland were standing on the northeast wall amid a group of perfecti. From a family that had taken refuge on Mont Segur had come a red and green costume for Diane, the tunic and hose of a well-to-do boy, an equerry. They had cut her hair short and tucked it under a cap topped with a long partridge feather. They had sewn the red cross back on Roland's black surcoat, and had made one for Diane's tunic from a gentlewoman's crimson scarf. A rope to form a sling was tied around her waist and another around her knees. Roland was similarly tied. What is Diane most likely going to be? A. a convert B. not enough information C. a monk D. a refugee
Ans:
B