*Question*
"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. Why will Greg probably regret the party? - not enough information - he will have guitar practice - he does not get along with Cynthia - he does not like his Dad
**Answer**
he does not like his Dad

*Question*
I had seen it before, those fuzzy, furry leaves and stalks, with the pretty, star-pointed purple flowers, but up until that moment that I saw them sitting in a basket at the market stalls, I admit I had never taken notice of it as a food. It grow along cracks in stone walls and along the roadside near my home in Settignano, which is blooming with spring goodness right now: robinia (black locust) trees, wild garlic (three-cornered leek) and even elderflowers are already bursting. I asked the vendor just to double check, “Is this borage?” “Si,” Came the answer, “Borragine.” He confirmed. “I’ve had it in ravioli,” I started to say, “Brava!” He said, as if we were about to start a guessing game on what could be done with it. Actually, there’s a lot that can be done with it. If you can use it as a ravioli filling with ricotta, then you can imagine it taking the place of spinach in gnudi, too, but also soups or frittata or stirred through polenta. I learned that the flowers are just as delicious, if not more interesting, for their delicate cucumber-like flavour — people told me of their use in salads or cocktails like Pimms, and someone even mentioned she freezes them in ice cubes, what a pretty idea for those first warm nights when you can dine al fresco, homemade cocktail in hand. Then there’s risotto and of course the fritters, much like these ones. Or you can simply deep fry the clusters of buds that haven’t yet burst open like these deep-fried robinia flowers. borage and ricotta crepes The problem, I was thinking, as I took home my bag of borage, is that I can’t decide what to make. There’s simply too much choice. I consulted two of my favourite books that also happen to be cookbooks. Patience Gray’s Honey from a Weed and Luigi Ballerini’s A Feast of Weeds. Both had wonderful ideas for borage (and indeed many other edible, foraged plants). What is probably true about the author? - needs a cookbook - not enough information - she enjoys trying new foods - she doesn't like cocktails
**Answer**
she enjoys trying new foods

*Question*
If you’ve ever seen travel photos of Venice or been to Venice yourself, you’re probably familiar with the Rialto Bridge. The Ponte di Rialto is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Venice and one of the most iconic landmarks of the Italian city. Even in 1594, when the bridge was only recently completed, a British traveler called it the “eighth wonder of the world.” The version of the bridge that most people know was built between 1588 and 1591, but there’s been a bridge in this location since around 1180. The Rialto Bridge was the first bridge to cross the Grand Canal, and until the 1800s it remained the only bridge across Venice’s major waterway. The Rialto district was the main commercial hub of Venice and people increasingly needed access to buy and sell goods. The first bridge built at this site was a pontoon bridge that was eventually replaced by a wooden bridge in 1264. This wooden bridge was destroyed and rebuilt several times: it burned down during an unsuccessful coup in 1310, and in 1444 collapsed under the weight of a crowd watching a boat parade during a wedding. Its last collapse came in 1524, and by then Venice decided it was time to build a more permanent and durable bridge. Beginning in 1525, many architects submitted designs for the Rialto Bridge, but none of them was unanimously selected for the commission. The elected council overseeing the bridge’s construction deliberated and consulted several local builders to figure out how they could erect a stone bridge across the wide Grand Canal. They had a few limitations to consider: the sloped shores on either side, the need for boats to be able to pass underneath, and the practicality of having shops atop the bridge. Andrea Palladio’s design for the Rialto Bridge, published in his architectural treatise, Quattro libri, in 1570, featured three arches that would have prevented larger boats from passing under the bridge. Although his design utilized an appealing classical aesthetic, it was rejected in favor of Antonio Da Ponte’s. Andrea believes that: - grand canal issues - Bridge issue - not enough information - waterway issue
**Answer**

waterway issue