The Farmer’s Almanac

They always said that the farmer’s wife was a walking library. She knew it all.

One morning, the farmer was ordering drinks in line at the cafe while his wife found a table. Stirring up some small talk, “Who taught you how to farm?” I asked him. Nodding his head towards his wife, “She did, she knows everything and anything.”

Following his gaze, I glanced over at his wife. She stood hunched over the table as if carrying a boulder. She unbuttoned her blouse and opened a wooden door on her chest, then began pulling out a stack of books.