"You spelled your name wrong." I was working, with my daughter, Kate, to set up our farmer's market booth in Blowing Rock and I looked up to see a man standing beside our sign. He pointed a finger at the board. "Sole. It's supposed to be s-o-u-l." I smiled at his smug face as I responded. "Sir, you do not understand what I do."
|It takes sole work to produce soul food|
|Rubber boots protect feet from treacherous mud|
|Worn soles reflect the day's toil|
|A potato heart sits in a boot print|