Dearest parents.

As you may know the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains. And Madrid, is as you are undoubtably aware, smack dab in the middle of the plains of Spain. As such, I will soon be inundated in a deluge of biblical proportions. Maybe you’ve seen the images from a flood that occured some where just south east of Madrid.

The situation is dire. Our street is at the bottom of a very large hill, and I am not sure I’ll be able to leave to obtain much needed supplies during the harsh European winter. I have been having reoccuring nightmares about the fate of the Gingerbread Boy.

I am living in fear of succumbing to a similar fate. Which I most assuredly will, unless I can aquire the proper footware. What I really need is a sturdy pair of Galoshes.

Galoshes have a rich history in Iberian penensula, where a rurimentary form of them was worn by the barbarian tribes of Gaul. Julius Ceaser brought them back to Rome, and from there civilizations around the world embraced them. Galoshes even enjoyed a few decades as the official footwear of Russia!

Without Galoshes this winter, I will be doomed to sit in my house and weep.

I remain as always, your, soon to be soggy, son,
Ash