My beloved son,
It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that I will be delayed past the end of the year in Europe. There's been a freak wave of torrential downpours that have left the dig site under ten feet of water, and I fear that the silt and mud will erase a good deal of progress our team has made thus far. Give my regards to mother when she returns from the East Coast. Speaking of which, don't tell her, but I was pondering another hunting trip as a delayed Christmas present. I trust that will even the books.
your loving father,
Bartholomew
