bird-badges and plectrums

The process of moving flat uncovers a multitude of sins, and in my case the paramount sin appears to be a lustful, insatiable desire to collect small objects; by which I mean anything smaller than a hardback book; incorporating buttons, seven-inch singles, paperclips, cables, bits of driftwood, hand-written notes, out of print penguin paperbacks with colourful covers, tiny musical instruments, travelcards, kinder egg toys, pebbles, bird-badges and bouncing balls.

Just about the only small item I'm always in need of, and never able to locate, is plectrums, and no matter how many I buy I swiftly lose them. I had anticipated that in cleaning out my old flat I would find lots of them under the bed or resting on skirting boards, but alas I didn't. The only plectrum I can always rely on finding is one that Pete gave me many years ago, transcribed with his name. Subsequently about 80% of the songs I've written in the last five years have been composed with his pick. Thanks mate.