Speak, Memory, and this time don't mumble

Went up to Peterborough Saturday to see an old friend who's just moved there after a five year gap. Had a WTF packing moment trying to find the black bag-- surely I have a black bag? with two side compartments and an outer pocket, and didn't I stash it inside the big grey monster I got on the sidewalks of New York to bring books back in in '05? No. Not there. I can't keep track of my luggage because I always go with one bag and come back with two-- black bag itself I think comes from Ikebukuro Station-- and I haven't travelled much these last years, and now must also bring a cervical pillow with me so farewell the carry-ons of yesteryear, and of course ever since I discovered wheels in '03 that's what I use.

(But didn't I take the black bag to the cottage last year with the travel pillow stuffed into one side? Am definitely remembering stuffing pillow, but that could have been any time from 2000 on.)
( Memory always lies )