From the Farm

A warm breeze blew through the gazebo, lifting a length of embroidery floss and carrying it away like a strand of pink spun sugar. It twirled as it went, catching and hanging on the low branch of an ash tree.

"Do you need that?" He arched an eyebrow at the tree as he fanned his face with a magazine. "Want me to get it?"

She shook her head, pushing her hair off her brow with the back of her hand. The thundershowers forecast was an unfulfilled promise. Dry, dusty and stifling, the heat was oppressive.

Snipping a dangling thread, she considered getting up for a glass of lemonade. It would require a trek across the yard, something that seemed much too tedious. No, better to sweat.

"No, thanks. It was a spare, anyway." She unraveled another length of floss, doubled the strand and threaded her needle. Humming softly, she pushed the needle into the fabric.

"What is that, Here Comes Santa Claus?"

"Uh huh." She nodded. Hummed. Stitched.

A few minutes later, "It's July, and you're humming Christmas carols?"

"Yup." She bent her head to the task before her, hiding her grin.

Finally he dropped the magazine on the glass-top table and turned to face her. His curls had tightened in the heat and even with a sheen of perspiration on his brow he made her heart hammer. She waited, knowing full well what was coming.

He didn't disappoint. Leaning close, he asked, "What is it? What are you making?"

Holding up the partially stitched muslin, she said, "Snowmen."

"In July?"

"Of course. Is there a better time to make snowmen?" Poking the needle into the corner of the fabric, she placed it on the table and gathered up the snippets of thread scattered on her lap. The birds loved them for their nests so she tossed them to the grass. She stood. "Lemonade? Or iced tea?"

He picked up the fabric, examining it closely. His brow furrowed. "Lemonade, please."

"Be right back." She took two steps across the dry grass, then stopped when she heard his voice.

"Why snowmen?"

"Why not?"

"But in July?"

"No better time for it," she said, smiling.

"How do you figure?"

She shrugged. "Reminds me to enjoy the sweltering hot days of summer. Sooner than we want, snow will fall and it'll be cold. We'll wish for warm days, hot nights. We'll want sweat, even. But now? We've got it all. Great time for snowmen, don't you think?"