There was a thick frost this morning, it happens quite early when you live in a valley that is 1000ft above sea level, but the day got warmer and the Leek people were setting up for the annual Leek show in the George and Dragon.
When I grew up in Gateshead my grandfather was very much a 'working mens club' man and I remember being dragged along to the annual vegetable shows where cabbages, carrots, cauliflowers and other very large vegetable based home grown wonders were put on display by proud men who smelled of stale beer and roll ups.
Every year there were at least two angry men who talked of sabotage and vandalism of his prize vegetable by competitors unknown.
The roughness and angry competition of the working mens club of my childhood memory was very different to the atmosphere in the George and Dragon on this Saturday.
In Garrigill the six degrees of seperation doesn't apply, it's more like one degree and it is at times like this that you lose that one degree as people who are known by one get introduced to another.
I didn't go in for the main show but as we walked the dogs at about midday the pub was full and the day was warm enough that many men had overflowed out to the tables on the green. It was strange that while the uniform of smart shirt, smell of stale beer and roll ups was missing there still seemed to be a dress code of leek people, in this place the majority being dressed in a warm army green jumper, a flat hat of a light colour or your standard country Berghaus in green with big pockets.
There is nothing unusual in a small place like this seeing many people dressed the same. We get it with groups of cyclists, walkers, shooting parties, but I was surprised that leek growers also seemed to have a dress code.
We wandered in for a look later on after the prizes had been given. There was no anger, no talk of sabotage, no bitterness at not winning. It was the first Saturday in October and it was a reason for everyone to get together and fill the pub, to catch up and talk and to show one of the things that they had been growing. Competition was fierce, and winning was the intention, but not at the high cost that I had seen as a child.
There must be something about leeks and the smell, because I made a broth, guess what was in it?
Leeks?
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