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? How large is the seal colony at Donna Nook? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. less than 30 seals B. more than 100 seals C. 30 to 100 seals D. not enough information
D

My first memory of cooking was with my grandmother, Rosemary, in Sydney. She taught me how to make scrambled eggs on her electric stovetop, the kind with the coiled heating elements, in her small, linoleum-lined kitchen with cupboards that stuck a little when they closed. She was not an exceptional cook I can remember plenty of bland and overcooked vegetables and custard made with powder to pour into pre-bought pie cases with tinned pineapple, her specialty but she worked hard to put a balanced, home-cooked meal on the table three times a day, every day. The eldest of eight children, she dropped out of school during the Depression to help her single mother look after her siblings and work as a seamstress at David Jones. When the Second World War broke out and she was engaged to my grandfather, Aubrey, she started working on war-torn planes ("sometimes looking as if a steam roller has gone over them," she said) as a sheet metal worker, putting them back together, when many of the men who used to do this work were off fighting the war. She said it was just like dressmaking, only using different materials. She had a twinkle in her eye and a distinct laugh that can really only be described as a cackle. She was a strong, incredibly smart woman with a fighter spirit who led her female co-workers out on the airport tarmac one day on a strike to earn equal wages to men. I am so proud that her story is taught as part of the Australian primary school curriculum. Her dream was to have a home with that electric stove. In 1943 when she was 28 she was interviewed for Australian Women's Weekly magazine for an article on women in men's jobs during the war, where there is a photo of her that is etched in my memory, dressed in white, wearing a white bandana tied in a knot at the top of her dark curls, a plane behind her. Rosemary's job fixing war-torn planes probably lasted: Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. until the war was over B. until the war started C. until the end of the century D. not enough information
A

Let's rewind to January 2013 for a moment. It's a sunny and warm day in Los Angelesa bit of a weather shock to me after 11 years of Seattle's cold and rain. I've been officially on the job in the web department for all of 12 hours. I'm sitting in a conference room at a big wooden table, surrounded by my new coworkers and team members in the Getty's web group. A big monitor is displaying the prototype of the newly designed and almost-built Getty Iris. We're discussing The Iris logo you see at the top of this page, its multiple iterations, and, quite frankly, the pain involved in trying to get it to look right. Wait-wait-wait, let's pause for a moment. My name is Will Lanni. I'm a Web production specialist at the Getty, which is a complex way of saying I'm a developer and designer, which is a nice way of saying that I'm basically a "web monkey." Before I started at the Getty, I worked as a partner in a small web design and development firm for several years. I had some experience working for the GettyI built the Pacific Standard Time at the Getty site, the Pacific Standard Time Festival site, as well as the interactive Getty Impact map. And, at the time of my hiring, I was not only working on the new design and build of The Iris, due to go live in only a month, but also the soon-to-be-launched website for Pacific Standard Time Presents: Modern Architecture in L.A. So I wasn't exactly new to projects at the Getty, even though I was a brand-spanking-new full-time employee. OK. Now that you know who I am, let's get back to that moment. The Iris logo, and the hair-pulling it was causing for all of uswhich is a pretty good representation of the steps that Web projects go through as we move from idea, to execution, to setback, to solution. When did the writer start their job in the web department? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. during 2013 B. before 2010 C. not enough information D. after 2014
A