A long time ago, when humans still lived in cities, on a cold morning near the end of a long, cruel winter, in magnificent Central Park in the middle of magnificent New York City, a young squirrel named Patch was awakened very early by the growls of his empty stomach. A squirrel's home is called a drey. Patch's drey was very comfortable. He lived high up an old oak tree, in a hollowed-out stump of a big branch that had long ago been cut off by humans. The entrance was only just big enough for Patch to squeeze in and out, but the drey itself was spacious, for a squirrel. Patch had lined his drey with dry leaves, grasses and bits of newspaper. It was warm and dry, and on that cold morning he would have liked nothing better than to stay home all day and sleep. But he was so hungry. Hunger filled him like water fills a glass. The cherry and maple trees had not yet started to bud; flowers had not yet begun to grow; the juicy grubs and bugs of spring had not yet emerged; and it had been two days since Patch had found a nut. Imagine how hungry you would feel if you went two whole days without eating, and you may have some idea how Patch felt that morning. Patch poked his head out of the drey into the cold air and shivered as he looked around. Clumps of white, crumbly ice still clung to the ground. Gusts of cold wind shook and rustled the trees' bare branches. The pale and distant sun seemed drained of heat. Patch took a moment to satisfy himself that there were no dangers nearby, no hawk circling above or unleashed dog below. Then he emerged from his drey and began to look for acorns. But what marvels, what miracles, what mysteries are hidden inside those simple words! Who is Patch's friend? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. The hawk B. not enough information C. The grub D. The dog
B

"To be real honest, Jeffrey, you're not making much progress," said Greg. "Are you practicing at all?" "Well, yeah. Mom makes me. She sits there watching to make sure I'm getting the right fingering and phrasing." "Hmm. I might need to talk to her about that." Greg hated when kids were forced into musicianship. He had been teaching private music lessons for more than ten years, and had seen it often. Parents made their kids miserable. It rarely worked anyway. "You don't really want to take piano, do you?" "No, Sir." "Well... " "I wish my mom would let me take guitar lessons. That would be cool." "You know you'd get calluses like this." Greg held out left hand and showed Jeffrey his fingertips. "Yeah! My friend, Zach, has calluses. They're hard like plastic." "Well, you know, it hurts for a while--until you build them up." "I don't care. I love the guitar. I've been begging Mom to switch me from piano to guitar." "I'll talk to her." "Great! I already have a guitar and--" "--don't get too excited yet. We'll see what she says." "Thanks, Mr. Tenorly." He jumped up and ran for the front door. Then he stopped, rushed back over to grab his piano books, and raced out the door. Greg's 3:30 lesson had been cancelled, so he now had a thirty minute break. Oftentimes, during a break, he would step outside and wander down the sidewalk, observing the townspeople going in and out of the shops around Coreyville Square. But something was bugging him. His dad's birthday party was only a few days away. He hoped he wouldn't regret letting Cynthia talk him into going. How long did the lesson probably last? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. one hour B. not enough information C. 3 hours D. 10 minutes
A

Q: Regular readers of Beauty Best Friend will know that wherever possible I use organic bodycare products, and that I simply adore the organic brand Botanicals. A British brand whose aim is to create products 'which are as close to nature as possible', their bodycare and skincare is simply second to none and they're certified by The Soil Association. Over the past couple of years I've tried several of their products including my favourite Cleansing Melt and I haven't found anything that I don't like yet! This month I've been trying their Deep Peace Aromatic Body Oil which arrived with me just at the right time my husband had man flu, I had a cold and I was looking after our 16 month old toddler alone. Deep Peace was just what my body was craving! I was sent a small glass bottle of the oil to try, but the full size product is a larger 100ml pump bottle (it also comes in 200ml and 1 litre bottles too). The directions say you can use it in two ways, either massage it into shoulders, neck and arms before bed, or apply it all over the body after batheing. After a bath or shower is the best time I feel as the skin is damp and warm and the Deep Peace oil helps lock moisture into the skin and the warmth helps the scent to lift. This Aromatic Massage Oil is 99% organic and the ingredients include Lavender, Rose Geranium and Orange Peel oils. The fragrance is very subtle and perfect if you don't like products that smell overpowering. It's a bit 'planty', I think it's the scent of the Rose Geranium that comes through the most, and personally I don't absolutely love the fragrance, but it's pleasant enough and it does help the head to feel calmed (even when nursing a husband with man flu!). what arrived for the woman just in time? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. a Cleansing Melt B. an oil with a subtle fragrance C. not enough information D. an oil with a peaceful fragrance
A: D

(Q).
Every so often I see a scenario play out that I find rather disappointing. It works like this: someone posts a topic to their blog that is critical or controversial. This person can either be a community member, commentator, employee or otherwise; it doesn't matter who the person is. Then what happens is a series of comments are posted to that blog entry from readers that are critical of the post, thus challenging the author on their views. The author then either deletes the blog entry or disables the comments based on the feedback. In other words, a viewpoint is shared, an invitation for comment is provided, but that invitation is then revoked when the author of the blog post is dissatisfied with the response from their readers. I have seen this happen countless times over the years and I don't like this. I believe we should all be accountable for our words. Our words have the ability to inspire, to entertain, to challenge, but to also hurt. Actions have consequences, and so do words. As such, when I see someone openly share their thoughts on their blog and invite their readers to provide comments, I see that as a wonderful demonstration of accountability and engagement; debate is a beautiful thing when executed with politeness and respect. To then close that door, seemingly because people disagree with you, is in my mind the equivalent of walking out of a room in the middle of a debate. The excuse when folks are criticized of this behavior is typically "it is my blog and I can run it how I like". This is true: it is your blog, and you can run it how you like, but the true measure of a person is not just in what they say, but also in the conversation and discourse that follows. Who is the author? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. a blog reader B. not enough information C. a critic D. a blog writer
(A).
B