The packing has begun, I took home every decent sized box that came into work yesterday containing shipments from various biotech supply companies. None of them biohazardous I hasten to add.

I'm having what seems to be the usual pre-move misconception that all of my belongings will be relatively simply and quickly stashed into conveniently categorized boxes, leaving no random detritus of odd-man-out items that doesn't fit (either physically or categorizationally) into the other boxes.

I know this is a misconception because it's happened every time I move. I start packing with the conviction that in no time I will have everything neatly and securely packed into appropriate boxes. With no leftovers. Then I keep stumbling across more and more stuff that must be packed and moved and it all has to get packaged up somehow. All of this ends up being unceremoniously crammed into whatever receptacle happens to be at hand, as long as that receptacle has handles.

There was the large IKEA bag that ended up containing the last-minute stuffing of: two silk cushions; a half-dead woolen sweater; a season of Sex And The City on VHS, still in it's plastic wrappings; a roll of ribbon; some pens and a couple of books. There is also the large cardboard box I still haven't unpacked entirely from moving in to this place. At one point it had candlestick holders, candles, a fire iron, tubes of decorative frosting...And a spurtle. A spurtle is a wooden spoon without the spoon part, it is used for stirring porridge. In other words: it's a stick. Only this stick has the shape of a thistle flower at one end, and a little tartan bow around it. Just in case you were in any doubt that it is an object of Scottish origin.

It is vitally important that I own a spurtle.

Important enough that it languished among the drying out tubes of frosting for four months before I thought to go find it and put it with the more frequently used kitchen tools.