Misplaced

Anyone who has moved house will be well aware of the pleasures of finding a space for all of the stuff that you accumulate over the years. When people move house in the movies they are usually relocated by competent looking men, dressed in brown overalls, who carry everything into the house and place it where they are ordered to by the lady of the house. Within 30 minutes the house looks like it has never been empty and every piece of furniture looks like it has been made for the very spot that it finds itself in. The good looking and slightly tired couple who have just been moved relax on the sofa with a gin and tonic...slice of lime...and some ice.
In real life you put everything into the nearest available space and watch with dismay as that space becomes less and less available. Once the removal lorry has been emptied, the kettle, which has been lovingly transported in the car along with the posh wine glasses, is produced and a nice cup of tea is made. The removal men would like a coffee. Although we never drink coffee, we have a box that we keep for such an occasion. One of the men would like sugar. We don't take sugar with our tea and so the sugar is kept at the back of a cupboard, on a shelf, next to moth balls and rat poison. So sugar is basically a non-essential and was packed in an unmarked box. I opened and investigated 4 boxes before the removal man told me not to bother. 4 boxes!!
Over the next few days and weeks a familiar pattern emerges. A box is opened, looked into, an object is lifted out and I scratch my head and wonder what the hell it is and where should I put it. I usually put it back in the box and go onto the next one. Because of this action, we now have a sizable summer house(big shed) and a cellar full of boxes and black sacks.
Yesterday I spent 5 hours painstakingly going through the boxes and bags looking for a pair of large spoons that we use to dish up rice and whatever we have with it. They are not expensive items, but they are items that we use a lot. I don't remember packing them. I know they are not in the old apartment because I went through it with a fine toothed comb (British expression meaning I had a bloody good look round!). But I cannot find them. They are not in any of the bags or boxes. They are not in any of the suitcases. They are not hiding in any draws that reside in cabinets. They have disappeared.
I do miss them...
By the way, I have never lived in a house with a cellar. Never. It's rather exciting and mysterious. It looks old and has a window, which is at least 6 feet below ground level. You can open the window a little bit but what's the point?