I promised pictures of my newly finished wall-hanging, but promises are made to be broken. Said wall hanging is still in a hundred pieces and I'm trying to work out why. What do I do with my time that stops me from finishing projects? A quick review of the last week shows three mornings filled with lycra-clad limb waving that over the years has gone by many names and now, that it is accompanied by plastic balls and elastic bands, is called Pilates. The actual exercise only takes 60 minutes a pop but getting there and back and recovery time, write off the rest of the a.m. hours. Three afternoons were taken up with lectures - I learnt about the history of the Fertile Crescent, concentrating on Syria. Reminded myself of all I knew and had forgotten about Herodotus, erstwhile resident of Bodrum whose 2,500 or so birthday we should all be celebrating, and spent two hours in the entertaining company of Prof. Dr. Fahri Işık; hearing more about Hekotomnus and his mausoleum which, inconveniently, was built before The (Seven Wonders of the Ancient World) Mausoleum of his son which coined the word 'mausoleum' - more on that later when I've plucked up the courage. That's more history than I sat though in a week as an undergraduate. Add several kms a day dog walking plus a long walk with Jake's girlfriends Peri and Sevgi, plus an afternoon each spent at writing group and book club, and the week whizzed past. No wonder the wall is still bare.