![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.lablit.com\/images\/Warmer.jpg\")
\nHot stuff<\/strong> Newton’s Law of Cooling takes a beating<\/p>\n
\nYou boil the kettle, lovingly clean out the mold from your mug and make yourself a beautiful brew. You sit down at your desk, open up your computer for a bit of a relaxing email browse, put the steaming mug to your lips, and \u2013 <\/p>\n
\nThe phone rings: your dry-ice package is downstairs and needs a signature. On the way back upstairs you are nobbled by someone who wants you to read their latest grant; you extricate yourself quickly, but when you pass through the lab, the building manager wants to talk to you about your leaky incubator and the new post-doc needs you to work out whether that weird stuff in the bottom of his transfections is harmless DNA precipitates or in fact gram-negative bacteria. By the time you return to your desk, your mug is cold.<\/p>\n
\nRepeat this entire process \u2013 several times \u2013 and you have a typical day in my lab.<\/p>\n
\nBut those days, dear reader, are over. I have been gifted with the most amazing gadget ever: a USB mug-warmer. Yes, friends, this little beauty has got to be every scientist’s best friend. I can’t speak for the whole genre, but after having road-tested this cheap and cheerful little model from Tesco’s, I can confidently confirm that it has withstood an entire afternoon of chaos and still managed to deliver me a hot cuppa at the end of it.<\/p>\n
\nAll this without actually causing second-degree burns or setting fire to my lab notebook. Bottoms up!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We’ve all been there. It’s been a frenetic afternoon in the lab. You have half a dozen experiments on the go and, what with various interruptions \u2013 the rotating graduate student can’t find an enzyme; you’re the only one who … Continue reading