Another letter - Brrr

I have some sad news. It is with much pain that I drag the following sentence from my innermost regions and announce it to you. I apologise profusesly, but it is beyond my control. Really, it is. As much as I like to think that I am in complete control of my environment, every now and again I have to admit that, actually, I have absolutely no control over it. Whatsoever. But wait, maybe I could write a letter to someone, as I am wanton to do. Oh, yes, the news... Sit down, first, okay?

My view across to the mountains is gone. Winter is here and with her she has brought her cloak of grey that she has flipped and flapped and thrown over the mountains. The sky is low, we've had spatterings of rain, and I've had to go digging in the dark (and sometimes scary) recesses of my cupboard for my scarves. I'm not a fan of Winter. Nope, I'm not. I do like the first couple of dark days and rain... as long as I'm snuggled at home. I don't like waking in the dark and cold and coming to work. It's that simple. So, yes, a letter.

Dear Winter,

While I am perfectly aware of the fact that you probably don't have a huge choice in your working hours, I was wondering if perhaps you could speak to your boss, The WeatherMan or WeatherWoman (I'd be intrigued to know which, if you'd let me in on the secret - it could solve gender arguments worldwide), and ask if, just perhaps, we could come to an agreement? You see, I have a couple of (very small) requests:

1. Please can you shorten yourself? Just a bit. Two months would be perfect, but if you want three, I could probably cope with that - your choice.
2. When you bring rain, can it please only be when I am indoors, preferably at home, because I do like the sound of it on my tin roof? I quite like to see it from my office window too, so if you'd like, you can bring it between about 7:30am and 4:30pm, and stop while I'm getting to and from work? Do check where I am, though, sometimes I run a bit late, especially when you're around, with your dark mornings - I'm sure you understand that.
3. One last thing - I'd hate to be too demanding, and I'm sure your time is precious, being so important - could you please be sure to bring snow on one of the weekends that I can go away to the mountains to see it? A little before, on the peaks would be good, and then a good smattering once we're holed up in our lovely little cabin with a fire roaring. That'd be just lovely. The weekend of the 1st of August would be good, depending on when my sister's babies are born, so just keep an eye out on that too. Or shall I let you know if I need to change it?

Being a season and all that, I assume you're quite powerful so I'm sure you can comply with these little requests. I'd be really grateful. I hope that you've got your mittens and scarf out.
If you don't have any, or yours are worn out, let me know - my mum makes lovely warm, bright scarves - send me your size and I'll get her to do one for you.

Again, thanks. I look forward to hearing from you. Don't forget to let me in on that he/she weatherperson question, okay?

Lots of love,
Shiny.

I wonder if I'm asking too much?