Question: Justin Nelson, Jr., pounded the last of the stakes of his new cattle pen into the dry dirt. Like sentinels, they sprouted in a line from the barn, swerved north of the stream, veered at a right angle for the stump, and followed Justin to where he stood. The cross-beams remained, after which he'd finally be done. He took a white handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wiped his forehead. The task had been lengthened considerably, although Justin refused to admit it, by incessant thinking, an activity which often stopped him with his hammer in mid-air. But now, he would soon be able to think all he wanted from the comfort of his porch as the cattle wandered from shade to shade. After he bought some cattle, he reminded himself. Under the entirely blue vault of sky, Justin felt something pass between himself and the morning sun. His leathered face turned up to see nothing but ubiquitous light, curving toward him in all directions. He arched his aging back, feeling the popping and hating it more than usual, before wiping his neck and replacing the handkerchief. He had that feeling that he'd better drink something and sit down or he'd end up in that damn hospital again. Twice last year, whether he needed it or not, he went in for a check-up, and twice a year, some intern treated him like the village idiot. Truth be told, everyone who knew about him had treated him that way for nearly eleven years, except his niece. With a sigh escaping from the bellows of his withering chest, Justin shuffled back to the porch he had added onto his small two-room home. In the distance, a plume of dust was billowing off the road. Mail truck. Must be time for breakfast. About time I ate something. Why did he wipe his face with the handkerchief? - It was a hot day. - He is sick. - not enough information - He had engaged in manual labor.
Answer: He had engaged in manual labor.

Question: As a day trip from Brussels (only a half hour train),  I’ve found that either many people haven’t heard of Ghent, preferring to explore the chocolate box streets of Bruges, or they adore Ghent so much that when a blogger (me) visits, they spam them via instastories with recollections of days spent there and memories made. True story. Disclaimer: I was a press guest of VisitFlanders in Ghent, but all planning, mischief and thoughts are all mine. We fell into the former camp on our trip to Brussels and explored Bruges, but genuinely regretted only being able to fit one city in, vowing to return one day. Luckily an invite to explore Ghent appeared in my email inbox, so I gleefully accepted, hopping on the Eurostar one sleepy morning, and spending a long weeked gambolling through the streets (under blues skies and then grey clouds.) As guests of the tourism board, we were given city passes which allowed us to hop on the local transport (trams & busses), pop in and out of the museums and climb aboard a canal cruise, exploring the city by water. GALAVANT THROUGH THE GRAVESTEEN We didn’t galavant so much as gallop up through the castle, so intent we were on completing a challenge to the top, but strolled back down through exhibitions. The exhibits share the history of The quintessential 12th-century stone castle, which comes complete with moat, turrets and arrow slits. And the view from atop the towers? Well, it’s ok I guess. HOP ONTO A CANAL CRUISE Sit back, relax, and let the world glide by. The 40-minute tour included in the city card takes in the city by canal, led by a knowedgable driver/guide and is a lovely way to get to know the city a little bit better. There are also other operators, a couple of whom offer picnics as you float through the medieval city. Who can help you get to know the city of Ghent better with some offering picnics as you float through the city? - a knowledgeable driver or guide - your children - not enough information - a teacher
Answer: a knowledgeable driver or guide

Question: So many kids, so many stories. Parents die, leaving kids devastated and unable to speak for days. Parents get deported, leaving kids despondent and hopeless. Children endure emotional, sexual, physical abuse. And more. The saddest story I ever heard was from the kid in my AP Lit class who had taken her senior year to accept invitations from education reform groups to speak around the country, which she did, without doing any of her homework. She waited until after grades were turned in at the end of the year to contest the “D” on her report card because it meant not going to UC Berkeley. She brought her mother with her, and her two sisters. After going around and around for a while with me and the principal, her mother said that her divorce had really affected this girl, and she had been fighting so hard all her life to get into Berkeley, and what did I have against her daughter? She deserved to go to Cal! They were all in tears. The principal found a way to change her 64% to a 70.01%, and off she went. This young woman full of potential and energy, learned from her mother and my boss, that excuses rule the day. She appears to think that “social justice” means fighting to get your way because the deck is stacked against you, instead of doing the right thing. This is sad. I know this isn’t what you were after, and that this memory says more about me than it does about her. Many other kids I have counseled, who are getting through something life-changing, seem to understand that life is in session, there will always be challenges to rise above, and that focusing in the classroom is a great way to get one’s mind off one’s troubles, if the environment is supportive and the spirit is willing. How long did the meeting last with the teacher and principal - Less than 2 hours - Two to three days - not enough information - Five minutes
Answer: