Once again, I've analysed my year of travel to see if I'm any closer to reducing it year on year. It's an annual habit, and if often kicks off new ideas that might affect my team's next year of work. The good answer is: yes, there is less travel! And not just that, but having reduced the schlepping I do, I've been able to hire more amazing people to lead on our work, and celebrate one of NoTosh's best years ever in terms of the quality, quantity and breadth of work we're doing. Key to traveling less has been a marked increase in the number of folk who see and are now reaping the value of working with us online. I've avoided as many as 20,000 miles of travel thanks to greener clients, who are also many dollars better off having not paid for the airmiles that are wrapped up in our regular fee structure. The quality of our work is better, too, thanks to this. We are doing fewer of those day-long workshops with teachers or leaders, when an hour or even thirty minutes before the day gets started is more worthwhile. We're seeing more school leaders take this up, although it's harder to get teachers into the habit of taking 30 minutes 'me time' to jump into a coaching session on the day or week ahead. But it's starting, and the value to us all is huge. Coaching is very different to 'consulting a Personal Learning Network' on Twitter. It's intense, targeted, focussed and involves a one-on-one discussion that arrives quickly at resolutions to current day challenges that will have a long-term impact. And we come back to measure whether that impact actually happened. I don't think it's a way of working that many are used to in Education, although many corporate clients have had some rare experience with it. Encouraging both groups to take more regular time out for coaching, little and often, is a real challenge, but we're beginning to see some huge impact from relatively little input (and relatively few dollars!). Who are amazing people? A. Business customers B. Longtime customers C. not enough information D. New employees
C

The sudden burst of spring produce in the market after a long, monotonous winter of cavolo nero and bright oranges is one of the things that constantly reminds me why I love living and eating in Italy. A wander through the market like any other becomes, in spring time, a new experience. I feel like a fresh arrival, like it's my first time walking through my local market. There are long, twisty fava bean pods, waiting to be podded and munched on with bitey pecorino cheese to tame the bitterness of the raw beans. Thin, long-stemmed asparagus. A lovely array of greens, including radishes with leaves so happy that they become the main ingredient, fluffy-fronded fresh herbs and fresh garlic. Artichokes of many different kinds, but especially the pointed purple ones that are either local, from Tuscany's Maremma, or sometimes from Puglia or Sicily. Rarely the rounded globe artichokes you find spilling out of crates in Rome, or the tiny, delicate Venetian ones, the so-called castraure (though they often aren't the real deal, how you can tell is by the price) that you can find in the shadow of the Rialto. And then there are thick bunches of agretti (salsola soda), looking more like mermaid's hair than a monk's beard, their English namesake. A few years ago, this wasn't such a common sight at the market in Florence. It still isn't, in that you won't get them by the crateful like you do fava beans and artichokes, though they're not particularly difficult to find now. They're just one of those special things that don't last long. Blink and you'll miss them, or come late to the market and they could easily be sold out. It's worth getting up and out of the house a little earlier for these (a note to myself, of course). If you've never tasted agretti before, it's worth seeking out if you're in the right place at the right time and find a bunch or see it on a menu. Frances Mayes likens it to spinach, but notes that it is so much more, "While agretti has the mineral sharpness of spinach, it tastes livelier, full of the energy... When did the narrator see Monk's beard? A. In Rome. B. not enough information C. In the spring D. In the winter
C

(Question)
Back in middle school, at least I think it was, I had art class. I didn't particularly love it but it was interesting enough at the least to hold my attention. We got to class and the teacher pulled up a list of instructions on the projector. She had each of us follow the instructions and she gave us 20 minutes to complete all of them. It may even have been a bit of a race too, to see who finished it first. This becomes a lot more evident in a second. I can't recall the exact details of the instructions, except that clearly it had to do with art such as having to draw a bunch of things. Anyways, we all went one by one down the instructions getting increasing nervous as to try to be the first one to finish. The class goes quiet while we work. Then I get to the last instruction which reads something along the lines of: "Step 15: Skip steps 114 and put your pencil down." You gotta be freaking kidding me. We're all so confused and mad at ourselves for not reading the whole of the instructions first. She turned this into a lesson for how we need to learn to read all the instructions first and then start, which was pretty clever. She got us! I remember this vividly to this day. But I look back now on this "prank" and I realize that she was kind ofwrong. Sure if the instructions are short like 15 steps it might be good to glance through before you start. But what about a whole load of instructions? Who the hell is going to read through the instructions for how to build their Death Star LEGO set before even starting to build it. Just a waste of time really. Note: I have never built a Death Star LEGO set. Why was the author surprised by the instructions? A. Because the instructions were incredibly difficult. B. Rule 15 said to ignore rules 1-14 after they had followed 1-14. C. The author didn't understand them. D. not enough information
(Answer)
B