Reillys on Tour

It was a warm Thursday morning. Despite it being mid-September and the beginning of autumn it still felt summery. Just another day of sunshine. But that wasn't quite true, for today was Benjamin's first day of school. He was going to get up, eat breakfast, put on a shirt, shorts and a tie and walk the 6 doors down the road to St Stephen's Primary. Lisette had reservations about the tie; the shirt too for that matter. It seemed excessive for a child as young as 4. But they were the rules. She had other things to worry about; John was faintly baffled by the level of stress accorded to the difficulty in acquiring shorts. But there you go. The morning began as most mornings did. Lisette drank a mug of tea upstairs. The boys drank milk, played and sat around her. Downstairs, Radio 4 could be heard in the background as John flicked various knobs and twisted dials on his coffee machine until something was produced that sat somewhere on the scale between "cappuccino" ...

It is a truism that there are holidays it is a pleasure to go on and holidays that make you appreciate home. We have just returned from France where we chose to stay on a French-only campsite, miles from the nearest town, where there was no public transport and (crucially) without any transport of our own. For the first half of the holiday we seemed likely to be falling into the second holiday category. We piled misjudgement upon unbelievably bad weather upon sickness upon unavailable taxis until we made manifest a teetering blancmange of calamity. The whole journey was planned in order that Benjamin and James might meet their Great Uncle Yves and their Great Aunt Nicole. I'm happy to report this was achieved. There was a gathering of 3 generations of Priou, all in the same room at the same time and enjoying one another's company. The rumours that the French had outlawed Bermuda Shorts seemed unlikely to have any basis in fact. I mean, it's a joke, right? Outlawing ta...

Miss Rachel at Nursery had a grand idea. She would give Benjamin a number of words and ask him how he felt about them. So she did. As Benjamin responded she diligently scribed away the results and presented Lisette with this at the end of the day: It's not the best photo I've ever taken but the contents are gold and I didn't want to forget them. So here they are; Rachel's words and Benjamin's musings: Police Car "Mummy might be worried that James will wake up." "I like them because they make me happy; I like police cars." Fish "Happy. They swim everywhere and I like to see them swim under water, I like to catch them under water, but I don't have a fishing net, maybe on holiday but then I need a suitcase too." Mouse "Worried because it might fall over - it would run into something and fall." Crocodile "I think it might eat. I would be worried." Monkey "Because it swings on branc...

Fun fact, the word "typical" enjoys a vastly different meaning when used by Brits as opposed to when used by the Spanish. The English usage of typical is effectively: "It's rubbish and I knew it would be". Example: the word uttered upon learning there is no car parking space when you need one. The Spanish definition is simpler; it means "traditional". Consequently the examples are jollier: olive oil, tapas and maracas. The flaxen haired youth's name was Benjamin Luxford Reilly and, as he was fond of telling people, "I *not* a baby, I a big boy". It was another sunny day in Mallorca and it had been decided that a trip to the market was in order. Benjamin wasn't too clear what a market was exactly. He had supposed that it would be much like a supermarket, but apparently not. Benjamin's father delighted in telling him that whilst supermarkets were a relatively recent innovation, markets went all the way back to Roman and Gree...

My name is James Edmund Reilly. Hullo there! You seem a little bored. No matter; I have the remedy. Let me tell you about how my holiday began. That´s me It was Wednesday 15th April, 2015. In Twickenham, where I'm proud to lay my hat, spring was determinedly springing. I awoke at 4:30am to the tuneful warblings of birdsong. Not wanting to be left out I decided that I would join my feathered friends in their early morning chorus. I gave voice and cleared the lungs with a good howl. I imagine it really added something to the melody. After around 15 minutes of this I felt I was done. By now I could hear daddy downstairs moving around and I settled back to rest, content in the knowledge of a job well done. Not only had I added to the music of the morning but I knew Daddy doesn't like to waste the day. I'd given him the wonderful gift of an extra 2 hours of awake time before everyone else got up. I knew he'd be pleased as punch. Mummy and I soon drifted off again. Whe...

I just cried. I'm not an especially tearful person for the most part so that was kind of odd. Lisette and I went to the cinema last night. It's our wedding anniversary on Monday and Lisette is due to give birth in a months time. So we felt an outing was in order - probably our last outing for quite some time. We saw a film called " Boyhood ". It moved me. It's a film pretty much like no other. You see a boy, Mason, age from about 7 to 19. It's amazing. It's not full of big drama - but it is full of the kind of things that happen when you grow up. It made me remember the things that happened to me when I was younger. I should say that my own life was easier than Mason's - there were far less genuinely scary adults in my own upbringing. But so many of the things that happen reminded me of things I'd forgotten. At one point Mason goes "camping" with friends in a semi-built house and they smash up bits of wood and throw ci...

It's just over 500 days since Benjamin, my son, was born. He's no longer the fragile newborn. He eats normal food, he walks, he sleeps through the night. He's a very healthy little fellow. He doesn't talk yet but I've no doubt it's in the post. Benjamin and I in Santa Ponsa, Mallorca (visiting Granny Annie and Aunty Sevie) Lately I've been considering - how has becoming a father changed me? Because I know it has. To a greater extent than I'd like, the answer is fear. Put simply, I'm terrified. I'm terrified of something happening to Benjamin. I'm terrified of him hurting himself, someone else hurting him or worse still, me hurting him. And lest I sound too narcissistic - it's not restricted to him. Fact of the matter is I find much of the world more painful than I can bear anymore. I've found I can't read newspapers these days. They are filled with tragic events. People wounding each other, people killing each ot...