Wishing for winter whispers

For the way I feel right now, Summer is all wrong. Summer serenity cannot condone how I am presently. There is a certain comfort that can only be offered up by winter, and it is that cozy and complacent feeling. Though Summer is warm and graceful, winter is in itself warm, and consoling. Summer seems so much a fiery-tongued mistress, prepared to lash out at you whenever she feels. The dearest winter, though on her exterior seeming a frosty tart, is a friend, wrapping you in her inner warmth. Winter always offers the comforts of wanted warmth, and comfortable warmth, as opposed to the dazing and beguiling warmth of Summer. What I wish at length is not so much to be immersed in the chilliness of winter, but to be surrounded by the hospitality of her.
What I am supposing is that I long to be sitting in front of the fireplace, be it real or fake (though preferably genuine) eating warm, fresh bread, and sipping on some delicious confection as apple cider, swirled with a cinnamon stick. The ideal setting is, naturally, a modern and large log cabin, surrounded by evergreen trees dusted in snow in a wondrous forest. Within this cabin, in front of the fireplace, would be a lovely rug of fur (on which to consume the delectable winter fineries) where I could sit wrapped in a blanket, watching the flames lap at the air so determinedly, and reflect on things. Though it would not make all my troubles go away, it would make the great raging beast of them into naught more than a fizzle... at least for a spell.
Of course, if you know me, you'll know I am much a romantic, and that I always long for winter. Perhaps if after reading this, you do too, I will know that I have done my job well.