Other than a few rainy days here and there, this summer in North Carolina has been HOT, HOT, HOT! And here it is, September, and temps this week are expected to be close to or exceeding 100 degrees. No cold front in sight. (Sigh)
Curious about what the Old Farmer’s Almanac predicted, I leafed through the 2026 edition. The Almanac said much of the southern and eastern United States is expected to trend hotter than normal throughout the summer, with intense summer heat in North Carolina resulting in especially dry conditions. This prediction has been right on the money as we are in a drought, urged by local water companies to conserve water or pay a fine.
Though I’ve always known about the OFA, I was unfamiliar with the history of the publication. So, here’s what I learned…
For generations, gardeners and farmers have turned to a small, unassuming publication for wisdom on weather, planting, and just about everything under the sun. The Old Farmer’s Almanac is a staple in many households, its yellow cover a familiar sight on bookstore shelves and kitchen counters. It feels like it has been around forever, offering advice with a certain old-timey confidence.
Beyond its famous weather predictions and planting charts lies a rich history full of surprising details. From secret formulas to presidential controversies, the story of the Almanac is as fascinating as its contents. Take a look at some of the most interesting facts about this iconic publication. The world is sad that they have announced they will stop publishing, but their legacy and data will live on in our hearts and online
Before the United States had even seen its third president, The Old Farmer’s Almanac was already in print. First published in 1792 by Robert B. Thomas, this little guide has been in continuous publication ever since. That makes it the oldest periodical in North America.
Thomas, a bookseller, teacher, and amateur astronomer, wanted to create something both “useful, with a pleasant degree of humor.” He clearly succeeded, as it has outlasted countless other magazines and newspapers.
The Almanac’s weather forecasts are legendary, and for good reason. They are created using a secret formula developed by Robert B. Thomas himself. This formula combines the sciences of solar activity (sunspots), climatology (weather patterns), and meteorology (the study of the atmosphere).
While the exact method remains a closely guarded secret, the editors claim it results in 80% accuracy. The formula is said to be kept in a black tin box at the Almanac’s offices in Dublin, New Hampshire. This commitment to a proprietary, time-tested method is unusual in our age of supercomputers and satellite imaging.
Since 1851, The Old Farmer’s Almanac has featured a cover design that includes a portrait of its founder, Robert B. Thomas, alongside Benjamin Franklin. This design, first created by artist Hammatt Billings and engraved by Henry Nichols, has appeared with stylistic updates on nearly every edition since.
The inclusion of Franklin honors his own Poor Richard’s Almanack, which inspired Thomas’s work and helped shape early American publishing.
For its first 56 years, the publication was known simply as The Farmer’s Almanac. The word “Old” was added to the title in 1848. The change was made by the second editor, John Henry Jenks, to distinguish it from the growing number of competitors and imitators.
This simple word choice was a clever marketing move. It immediately positioned the Almanac as the original, the authentic source of information. In a crowded marketplace, “Old” signaled heritage and reliability. The name change worked, cementing its status as the definitive farmer’s almanac and helping it stand out from the copycats that have long since disappeared.
The first edition in 1792 had a modest print run of 3,000 copies and sold for sixpence. (six cents) From these humble beginnings, its popularity exploded. By its second year, circulation tripled to 9,000. Today, the Almanac boasts a print circulation in the millions and a massive digital audience.
This incredible growth speaks to the universal appeal of its content. While its core audience was once farmers, it now caters to backyard gardeners, amateur astronomers, and anyone interested in a more self-sufficient lifestyle. The Almanac has successfully adapted to the modern world, embracing a digital presence while staying true to its printed roots.
In 1857, a murder trial took a strange turn when a witness claimed he saw the suspect under the light of a bright, full moon. The defense attorney, a young Abraham Lincoln, was skeptical. To challenge the testimony, he consulted The Farmer’s Almanac.
Lincoln used the Almanac to show that on the night of the crime, the moon was in its first quarter and had set before the murder occurred. There would have been almost no moonlight. His clever use of the Almanac to discredit the witness helped his client, William “Duff” Armstrong, get acquitted. The event, which became known as the “Almanac Trial,” showcased the publication’s accepted authority even in a court of law.
During World War II, the U.S. government grew concerned that the Almanac’s accurate weather forecasts could aid the enemy. In 1942, a German spy was caught ashore on Long Island with a copy in his pocket, fueling fears that it was being used by the Nazis.
The government pressured the Almanac to stop publishing its forecasts. The editor at the time, Robb Sagendorph, traveled to Washington, D.C., to argue his case. He explained that the forecasts were based on a long-standing formula, not state secrets. A compromise was reached: the Almanac could continue publishing, but it had to replace its “forecasts” with more general “weather indications.” This clever wording allowed it to maintain its continuous publication record.
In 1816, the Almanac made a bold and seemingly absurd prediction: snow in August. This forecast was reportedly the result of a printer’s error. When Robert B. Thomas saw the mistake, he was horrified and tried to recall and destroy all the copies. However, he missed a few.
Amazingly, the prediction came true. 1816 became known as the “Year Without a Summer” due
to the massive volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia, which spewed ash into the atmosphere and lowered global temperatures. New England experienced frosts and snowfalls throughout the summer, devastating crops. The Almanac’s accidental prediction cemented its reputation for uncanny accuracy, even if this particular instance was a fluke. There are many ways of predicting snow, and this was a classic.
For a publication with such a long history, The Old Farmer’s Almanac has had surprisingly few editors. Since its founding in 1792, only 14 people have held the top editorial job. This continuity is a major reason for its consistent voice and vision.
Each editor is a custodian of the Almanac’s traditions, from the secret weather formula to the founder’s portrait on the cover. This small number of leaders has helped preserve the publication’s unique character. It ensures that while the Almanac adapts to the times, it never loses the core identity that Robert B. Thomas established over two centuries ago.
While famous for its weather predictions and gardening guides, the Almanac is a treasure trove of eclectic information. A typical edition4 contains recipes, jokes, astronomical tables, puzzles, and articles on topics ranging from natural remedies to folklore.
The almanac included tide tables, weather predictions, schedules for colleges and Friends (Quaker) meetings. It gave carriage fares in Boston, postal regulations and advice. For example, along with the dates the courts would open in six states, it offered a morsel about lawsuits.
If your neighbor’s hens or hogs or cattle have trespassed on your crops, and you can get no satisfaction, don’t rush into a lawsuit about it; think it over carefully … The best lawyers advise clients to settle contentions out of court, sometimes even to buy a peace rather than to undergo the cost and worry of a contest.
The Almanac once conducted an experiment comparing Cincinnati flour to Alabama flour to see which made the bigger loaf of bread. Alabama won.
The centennial edition began 1892 year with the admonition “to decide if John or James, or both, shall be sent to the Agricultural College.” It also advised “Get Up early enough in the morning to give all the cattle a good carding.”
Then in October, the almanac warned the farmer not to permit his boys or hired men to shake off good winter apples. They should pick them off and handle them as carefully as if they were eggs, the almanac advised.
This variety is part of its enduring charm. It’s designed to be a companion for the entire year, offering something to entertain, educate, or assist you every day. You might pick it up to check the best days to plant potatoes and find yourself reading about how to predict the weather using a persimmon seed. This blend of the practical and the peculiar is what makes it so beloved.
FUN FACT: The hole drilled through the corner was added in early editions so people could hang it on a nail for easy access.
The Old Farmer’s Almanac is more than a guide; it’s a connection to the past and a tool for the future. Its history shows us the value of blending science with tradition and practicality with a bit of humor. To make the most of this resource, don’t just read it, use it. You can track its weather predictions against your local forecast.
While you won’t be able to find a hard copy anymore, its website is still a treasure trove of information. Use its planting calendar to experiment with a new vegetable in your garden this year. Explore its recipes for a seasonal dish. By actively engaging with its content, you are participating in a tradition that has enriched lives for over two centuries.
Today, The Old Farmer’s Almanac reigns as the oldest continuously published periodical in North America.
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I would never say I have a green thumb, but boy, my garden was prolific this year. I had more tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, snap peas, jalapeno peppers, and onions than we could eat. And then we picked apples from a nearby orchard. I had drawn the line at growing zucchini again, and my daughters were more than happy to give me some of theirs. I still had green peppers in the freezer from last year. Even with these adjustments, I had more produce than I could handle.
It’s a good thing I love canning.
Canning jars have evolved from wire bailers and glass dome lids used with re-usable rubber rings to the flats and rings we’re familiar with today.
