Write a question from the passage such that it identifies a character (a person or a thing) in the passage.

[Q]: One of the more surprising objects in the Getty Villa's newly reinstalled gallery of later Roman sculpture is a marble bust of a youth leaning out of a circular frame, mounted high on the gallery wall. J. Paul Getty originally acquired this particular sculpture in 1973, but it has been off view for many years. The recent reinstallation of the Getty Museum's antiquities collection at the Villa provided the opportunity to resurrect many such objects from storage and put them on display.
Bringing this strange object back to the public eye enabled us to ask—and answer—several questions about it. Who—if anyone—does it represent? When was it carved? Where was it made, and how did it end up in Los Angeles? In preparation for its display, we researched and reinterpreted the object, exploring both its ancient function and modern history.
In its new display, this object is fittingly surrounded by other examples of late Roman sculpture from the third and fourth centuries. Its inclusion in this gallery was not always a given, however, as the figure was long misidentified as a portrait of young Caracalla, who at ten years old became joint emperor with his father in A.D. 198.(1) But recent scholarship questioned the Caracalla identification and the object's date, suggesting it was carved at least a hundred years later.(2) In light of this research, curator Jens Daehner pushed to reexamine the sculpture and consider including it in the reinstallation.
In early 2015, the Antiquities Department brought this tondo and many other potential objects for the new galleries out of storage for viewing, providing curators, conservators, mount makers, preps, and registrars a chance to approve and prepare artworks for possible display.
After the storage viewing and subsequent research, we updated the object record to conform with what scholars had suggested: this is not a second-century portrait of Caracalla but a fourth-century bust of a youth or divinity. To answer our next question of who the tondo represents, we then had to take a closer look at the curious origin and function of this sculpture type.
[A]: Who owned the large estate?


[Q]: Not as a nurse, but as a patient. I had my appendix removed in about 1970 before keyhole surgery and the surgeon had not properly stitched the inside incision. This meant I was slowly "leaking" blood into the area between my abdominal cavity lining and my skin. I was kept in the hospital for two weeks and every day the same nurse would come along and open the end of the incision in my skin to relieve the pressure caused by the pooling of my blood. That was fine for the first five days, but the weekend came and she was off duty.
Apparently, nobody else knew what to do. By Monday morning, I was in agony and when she arrived, she was appalled I had not been drained during the weekend. The other thing that happened during the weekend was the end of the skin incision, which she had opened, had mostly healed meaning there was no convenient hole for the blood to be drained.
The nurse used a sharp pair of scissors to reopen one end of the partly-healed incision, but still the blood would not simply drain of its own accord. She used both hands to squeeze downwards onto the swollen blood reservoir. At first, there was no reaction except agonizing pain, but after a few seconds and a very hard squeeze, the stinking, coagulated blood jetted out of the hole she'd made squirting across the ceiling, down the wall and down her full-length coating her face and the front of her uniform. Despite the pain, I couldn't keep myself from laughing loud and long.
She then dressed the wound, directed some junior nurses to clean the ceiling and the wall while she went to clean herself. I apologized for laughing the following day when she returned. She told me she appreciated the humor of the situation so there was no "hard feelings."
[A]: Who did the author say was appalled that they had not been drained during the weekend?


[Q]: When a friend tells you she has wild roses blooming everywhere, it's not hard to imagine where the conversation headed to next… to turning them into rose petal jam, of course.
My friend Simona Quirini and her family run the beautiful Canto del Maggio, a B&B, restaurant and garden, about one hour's drive from Florence. We arrived to catch Simona with a wooden crate in her hands, already half full of blush pink flower heads, small and as fragrant as honey.
It wasn't just roses that were bursting out of their bushes with colour and fragrance. In fact, every time I go to Canto del Maggio, I notice how lush the property is with fruit, flowers and plants, and every season there are bounties to be collected. The first time I was there I noticed the myrtle bushes and heirloom fruit trees — little tiny, red pears and apples. The garden was full of summer produce and I stole green-skinned figs harbouring raspberry-red flesh off the trees. The next time I went, we picked ripe olives off the trees around the pool and took them down to the local frantoio, olive oil mill, to press the bright green oil out of them. I also came home with buckets of corbezzoli, or Irish strawberries, to make jam. This spring, I noticed the hedge rows of flowering wild strawberries and this last visit we picked the berries off them for an afternoon snack.
With the help of my daughter (who was slightly more interested in playing with Simona's new puppy), we filled a crateful of roses and picked the petals delicately off and into bowls. We were using the rose petal jam recipe and the technique I learned between two wonderful sources — Pellegrino Artusi's 1891 cookbook (this pastry recipe below is also inspired by it) and the Armenian monks on Venice's Isola di San Lazzaro Island where I worked for two autumns. The secret, other than having beautiful, small and fragrant roses to begin with, is in massaging the petals with a bit of the sugar and the lemon juice until almost a pulp to release the essential oils.
[A]:
Who notes how lush the property is with fruit when she goes to Canto del Maggio?


