Why I am refusing to get into a pickle over men like Elon Musk and Nigel Farage - Christa Ackroyd

To be truthful I was going to write this week about Elon Musk. But then I thought that is exactly what he wants everyone to do, to react to his noise until it becomes a cacophony.

So I am not. I am not going to dignify the man who believes everyone should be born via caesarian because the God-intended way of natural delivery in his world affects the development of the brain. I am pretty sure it does not and since when did he attend medical school?

I am also not going to comment on his on/off bromance with Nigel Farage (don’t hold your breath for a million pound donation Nigel) because I won’t waste your time or mine.

But I do believe we need a full inquiry into child grooming in our Northern towns and cities because to shut down the conversation which so desperately needs to happen means those with the biggest voices can shout loudest while the victims are silenced.

But that is it. Powerful men determined to be heard do not need you or I to add to the debate, which actually isn’t a debate but simply clickbait, because that is how they work. They make their broad sweeping statements and sit back waiting for us to explode. Well I won’t.

And so back to the pickled onion. It is a salutary tale. In a way it reminded me of the wonderful Alan Bennett monologue where Thora Hird bemoaned the fact her cleaner hadn’t moved a cracker from under her sofa. In fact I do believe she had placed it there herself in order to test her efficiency.

I have no such excuse for my pickle. And I tell you something else, heaven knows when I would have even found it with my out of sight out of mind approach if it hadn’t been for a phone call from a very dear friend in Scotland wishing me a happy new year.

This friend doesn’t make new year resolutions bar one. She never goes into a new year without clean sheets on the bed and her cupboards tidy. Not for her the broad promise of a clear out sometime in Spring.

She genuinely believes it is the best way to embrace whatever changes may come along in the year ahead with an uncluttered house and an uncluttered mind.

Now there is no way I could have done the whole house in the week since New Year. I still have tins of old photographs from my dear mum and dad that I have been promising to sort out for the last five years. But I know what will happen when I do.

I will simply sit there reminiscing surrounded by memories strewn all over the floor until I put them all back exactly where I found them. How do I know? Because I have tried on at least three occasions and failed.

But my kitchen cupboards, that would be a start. Hence the discovery of the pickled onion, and so much more. If I am honest I don’t think I have actually taken everything out and started again since lockdown, when the baking mania overtook me and I ordered everything under the sun to keep busy.

And so along with the pickled onion went a whole host of things which were either past their sell by date, just I may hasten to add, I am not that slovenly, which I would never use. I was on a roll.

Job done, I tackled shoe cupboard, the dresser and the kitchen drawer where things are thrown in never to be found again. The twists on freezer bags, the rubber bands and batteries that you know will come in handy but you can never find when you need them.

An open packet of straws, paper clips and quite frankly a host of other things which I could not actually identify went in the bin liner.

Or if not I found a new place for them, or that’s the theory if I can ever remember what went where. I worked on the basis that if I hadn’t reached for it in three years it could go. And it was cathartic.

And then I remembered a little tapestry in the back bedroom my mum did for me at least three houses ago which introduced a whole new thought process. She completed it in 1994.

I know that because the date is embroidered alongside her initials. It is a William Morris saying: ‘have nothing in your houses you know not to be useful or believe to be beautiful.’

Which is a whole new ball game.

Over the years I have got rid of too many things which I later regretted. Things come and go. Tastes change. Fashion in houses is reinvented. What we once thought beautiful is now dated or we would all still have an avocado bathroom suite and pots and pans wallpaper.

But who would have thought that after a decade of griege and minimalism, curtains and florals and blowsiness is back with a bang. And if we had hung on to our teak furniture we would have been sitting on a fortune.

So there is a limit to decluttering. And if you like it that’s all that matters. I am also lucky enough to have a loft space.

But as a principle it works. I feel lighter and brighter and I know my mum would approve. Not only that but I decided to do exactly the same at the home of a friend who hasn’t been too well recently. And she declared it the best Christmas present she could have received. Who knew?

Look this isn’t an overnight change of personality. Tidiness will never be my middle name. But there is something about putting your house in order that feels good. And that has even forced me to look at my will, my file of documents and yes, my funeral plans .

When my father died everything was left just so, even little notes for everyone he cared about that have become the most precious possession to those who received them.

They were not morbid, not dramatic, nor even sentimental, just full of funny little stories or happenings which he made sure I knew he had never forgotten.

They were warm, and kind and written with love. When my mum passed away she had even written down the hymns she wanted playing at her funeral and a message that she had been happy with her life and all it had brought her , which proved to be such a comfort.

Look I am not going anywhere yet. But I totally get why they did that. And I plan to do the same.

Not only that I plan to put it somewhere where people can actually find it, thanks to my friend and her new year clear out. I also totally understand where she was coming from when she pronounced new year, new possibilities.

So out with the old, and that includes a lone picked onion, and in with the new.

Now to tackle that back bedroom. I am going in. Wish me luck.