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! Question: Who is Patch's friend? Options: - The hawk - not enough information - The grub - The dog === The correct answer is
not enough information

What was the reason behind you becoming a Wiccan? I had very bad experiences with the old angry bearded GOD in the Christian religion. He had turned his back on me. He had betrayed me time and time again. So, I left. Still wanting connection with a higher power, I hungered for connection. I liked communing with the Wiccan Gods. I also liked how They made me feel, at peace, and I felt I had the strength to change my own life for the better. They are always there for me. How did you find it? When I was a teen I heard the word Wicca. I didn't know what that was. I was curious and decided to investigate it. So, the next day I went to a book store. I asked the lady behind the counter if they had any books on "Wicca." She got excited and whisked me off to the metaphysical section of the store. She told me she was pagan and started handing me book after book into my arms. Soon I could barely see over the books in my arms. I mumbled behind the books, "Which ONE book would you recommend." She then handed me Scott Cunningham's book Wicca, A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner. I purchased the book and took it home. With my dyslexia it was not easy for me to read. But I started reading and plowed through the book. I found many things I was already doing. He talked about things I already understood to be true. The book rang true for me. I dedicated myself to the God and Goddess when I finished the book. Have you ever had any bad experiences after completing a spell? I did a prosperity spell once and got the opposite reaction I was hoping for. I lost all my income! I realized later my mistakes and redid the spell correctly and then got the results I truly wanted. Question: What turned the author on to Wicca? Options: - The book - not enough information - The bookstore - The internet === The correct answer is
The book

(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: When did the writer meet Harold? Options: - not enough information - after they exited the train - while they went wandering - during time spent with expats === The correct answer is
(A).
during time spent with expats