I CONSIDER myself pretty discerning (some might say fussy) about what I give my attention to and what I don’t.

For example, if Oasis were playing in my local hall, I’m not sure I’d really go and see them – that’s how hard it can be to get me interested and onboard.

So no one was more surprised than myself at how utterly invested and enraptured I was by a nail-hammering competition at the National Ploughing Championships last Wednesday (September 16).

Exactly as the name suggests, this was a competition to see how many hammer blows were needed to get a nail into a piece of wood and I simply couldn’t get enough of it – and neither could the huge crowd of all ages who had gathered to see the action.

No thumbs were harmed (while I was there anyway) and quite a few guys got the nail in, in a very impressive two blows. I was just thinking about giving it a go myself but we had to plough on (pardon the pun) as there was a lot of ground to cover.

As a ploughing first-timer I had been keen to hit the road as early as 4am that morning , but thankfully my driver (my brother) and other passengers (my nephews) are ploughing veterans and swung into my driveway at a more leisurely 6.15am to collect my daughter and I and make for the midlands.

As rookies I had packed boots of all shapes and sizes, water proofs, changes of clothes, hats, and more and I felt almost cheated that none of them were needed.

When you consider that it’s the biggest outdoor event of its kind in Europe and given how unpredictable our weather is, it’s bonkers how big a gamble the organisers take. They know only too well how wrong things can go, but luckily conditions couldn’t have been better when I was there. Not a muddy puddle in sight! Just as well I left the wellies in the car.

I know some people are quite methodical about how they plan their visit, but in a flurry of excitement we just set off in one direction and kept going and there was something impressive at every turn.

We stuck our heads into the RTÉ tent, swung by the Irish army stand where I tried on their back pack they take on manoeuvres that weighs 24kg (nearly, but not quite, as heavy as my own bag so!); we patted the head of a most handsome and placid bull in the Aberdeen Angus tent; and somewhere along the way we tried to guess how many bags of crisps were stuffed into a tractor. The prize was a year’s supply of crisps so it’s probably just as well we were unsuccessful.

Emma Connolly, her daughter Roise and nephew Sean Connolly at the Ploughing in Screggan last week

Modular buildings and homes seemed to be a huge attraction this year and I was very taken by a fancy hut that was fully-kitted out as a bar. The price was a little eye watering but with all the major financial institutions on site, for a time I entertained a notion that we could make the numbers work!

I’m also still day dreaming about this insanely snazzy quad bike by Chinese built Loncin  brand –   I know I don’t actually own a farm but it would be a stylish way to drive my customers home from my garden bar right?

Merchandise and gear is also a huge draw and once I had my McHale cap I felt like I looked the part. And of course for our younger ploughers, it was all about the GAA jerseys. Where this obsession has come from I’ve no idea, but there’s no option just to surrender to it  – and it helps that it’s free admission for the Under 12s, so how bad.

On several occasions I tried to get near the Clonakilty Food Co stall but it was at last three people deep every time – seems like everyone likes a free sample of black pudding and who can blame them!

Disappointingly I didn’t see a single celebrity –  as I know less about GAA than I do farming, Limerick hurler Kyle Hayes and former Cork hurler Diarmuid O’Sullivan had to be pointed out to me.

What was nicer though, was that we randomly bumped into loads of people we knew, which is half the appeal of the event: it’s massive but it’s manageable.

By late afternoon and 28,000 steps later we were starting to feel a bit bewildered so somewhat reluctantly we hit the road, and made the obligatory stop off in the national treasure known as The Horse and Jockey, along with loads of other ploughing match goers.

My take away thought from the day was that there can be no doubt about the contribution the agricultural community make to our economy, and that farmers deserve more support to make a viable living. I can’t say it plainer than that.

And my only regret of the day is that I didn’t get to see any actual ploughing.

But I’ll get to that next year because of course I’ll be  going back.