A vow

This is how the world outside my window should look today.  It doesn't.  The skies are grey and overcast.  It's damp.  The roads are smeared with slushy brown snow.  There are still piles of hard packed snow and ice standing sullenly on street corners sulkily refusing to melt. To cap it all I think I may be struggling to ward off a cold.  Rats!  I want to be walking through trees along a broad, sun dappled path.  At the end of the path would be a small restaurant where we would have a long leisurely lunch - with wine - before walking back again.  Next year.  Next Christmas.  I vow by all that is mighty in Santa Land that we will be trekking along such a path as this in the weakly warm winter sun of southern Spain - or Rhodes -  instead of trudging through December snow in Scotland.