For much of my life, I don’t think I ever saw a women in a hardware store, on either side of the counter. At the Ace Noble Hardware store in my town of Cambridge, N.Y., there are always women in the store, buying and selling and helping. I know nothing about tools, repairs, home improvements.

I’m a strange man, I’ve never felt at home in a hardware store, I always feel a bit stupid. I like them now, I bring Fate or Red and we talk about family, dogs, life. Maria comes with me, and I am not really allowed to buy anything she doesn’t see first.

The women working there – Nancy, Donna, others – are at home their, well-informed, helpful and serious about what they do. I call them the Hardware Women. They know all about nails, lugs, motors, hinges. And it is easy and comfortable to talk to them, they don’t mind my being so dumb, and if they do, they don’t let on.

I can hardly imagine surviving on my farm without them. I went in today to get help in finding away to keep our pasture gate from opening too wide, the wily donkeys and pony will sometimes try to slide out. I don’t want that to ever happen here.

This is another are that women are occupying, effortlessly and naturally. In my town, as in almost all American towns, something very important is happening with women, I think they may yet save the world. Here, Nancy and Donna (right) are helping a customer figure out which color paint to mix for his home. Portraits of my life.