If you write a weekly column in a local newspaper, you are in an unusual position.

First you need to have discipline, and you have to prove that you are reliable.

If your copy has to be on the editorial desk at a certain time, then that is where it has to be. There can be no excuse.

Secondly, you must make sure that the column is written in English. You have to be able to spell complicated words such as ’complicated’, and have a rough idea of the difference between a comma and an apostrophe.

And finally, it should be interesting. That can be quite difficult.

So what shall we talk about this week? Well as you may have noticed we live in a strange, new world of the constantly changing politically correct.

It just seems that things change so often that the time has come when I expect to see a job vacancy being advertised in the personnel department (sorry, human resources department) for an experienced goal post mover. The job description should also include an ability to use a crystal ball.

The trouble is that everything seems so restricted today.

What we really need is a selection of subjects that are simple to understand, easy to read, and are in no way controversial. Subjects that raise the heartbeat and at the same time soothe the soul.

An impossible combination, so we went for a run in the car.

It was a beautiful afternoon and for whatever reason there was very little traffic on the road.

We had an easy drive through the Baldwin valley, a cruise alongside the reservoir and up the hill to the Brandywell road to set course for Peel.

There it was, before our very eyes, this week’s subject, the Cronk y Voddy produce show.

It was a perfect afternoon.

All the usual produce was on display. Perfect vegetables, faultless fruit and brilliant blooms.

I have been an active gardener for most of my life and I know for a fact the amount of hard work involved in looking after a garden.

You have to battle with pests and problems for ever.

How those folk who exhibit at produce shows can achieve what they do with a packet of seeds and a watering can is well beyond my skills. And as for those giant pumpkins, well, words fail me.

Around the island at this time of the year there are quite a few of these produce shows.

The rivalry is good natured but must always be taken seriously.

For example, one of the most competitive classes is the big spud comp.

At the beginning of the gardening year, all of the entrants are given a single seed potato. The objective is to see what can be grown from this one spud.

The heaviest yield wins the class and strict secrecy surrounds the individual competitors and their methods.

This year’s event had attracted an excellent entry and there was a feeling of hushed anticipation from the occupiers of the various groups of chairs who were keeping a keen eye on the judges.

Visitors to these shows are always made to feel welcome. There is no need to worry about whether or not the Cronky show committee has a chairperson, a chair, or a chief spud-weigher.

It is a community with a feeling of belonging to a life with your fellow man that is founded on decency and compassion and has been grown slowly and carefully and held together with a social glue.

It is not from a position with a title that has evolved from a need to be seen to be doing the right thing.

Ask a man the question, where do you live?

If he replies that he ’comes’ from Pulrose or Peel or wherever, he feels like he belongs to a community.

If he replies that he just ’lives’ somewhere, then maybe he could do with spending an afternooon at the Cronk Y Voddy produce show.