After our booth is up and Davis has moved onto the next vendor, leaving me with aching balls and a promise to return when he gets the chance, I set out as much of the vegetables as I can and stack the empty crates in the back of my truck. The gates open at ten, and for the first two hours, I’m on my feet haggling with customers, trading the crops for cans of jam or preserves, pocketing payments and making change. I keep an eye on Jolene but she’s better at this than me, and by the time noon rolls around, she’s sold all of her piglets and gained two baby chicks in addition to a fistful of dollars. Her fat sow Missy wallows half-hidden in hot mud, but she’s the biggest pig at the fair and it looks like she might bring home another ribbon this year. When Jolene’s piglets are gone, she climbs
