Last week’s post ended with a gnomic ‘Nothing more to report at time of writing’. As most of you know by now, that wasn’t strictly true, because, by the time I posted on Tuesday morning, our newest grandson was already 10 hours old. However, an editorial decision was taken not to ‘hold the front page’. This means, of course, that I have a fairly obvious subject this week, and, astonishingly, it isn’t Madrid, where Bernice and I spent the past week having a proper holiday. I may tell you more about that next week, but, for the moment, having driven from Madrid to Penamacor yesterday, there can really be only one subject this week.

Tslil and Micha’el had always planned for the birth to be at home. They found an English doula who lives locally. They also said that they wanted to have a week or two after the birth alone as a nuclear family, before any grandparents descended. Our week in Madrid was timed to end two weeks after Tslil’s due date. In the event, the due date was a week early, but, fortunately, after a week of bonding alone, both Tslil and Micha’el felt ready for us to parachute in and chip in with the family chores.

The birth went very smoothly, and was, if anything, even quicker than Tao’s. For the first week, their circle of friends rallied round, dropping in with meals and making sure the dog, Lua, got her regular walks. As Micha’el pointed out, having such helpful neighbours is not that unusual, but when these ‘neighbours’ live on plots of land 20 or 30 minutes’ drive away, it means a lot that they are happy to make the effort.

Now that we have arrived, the friends are taking a step back, but at least one has already said: “In a month, when your parents leave, that’s when you’re really going to appreciate some help, so we’ll be ready.” It is wonderful that they have made such good friends, many of whom also have young children.

And it’s not only friends that have reached out. Word of the birth somehow reached the head of the Community Council in Penamacor, who contacted Micha’el and said that he would like to meet him. So, Micha’el dressed in one of his two smart outfits, pulled back his hair, and went to meet him. The official expressed great interest in Tslil and Micha’el’s story, and very much welcomed a new baby being born in the village. He was also very interested in helping them, and Micha’el even returned home with an invitation to a party next week.

Soon after we arrived, Tslil and Micha’el made a final decision about the baby’s name. Unlike his big brother, who makes his way through life with a single, three-letter name, the baby is going to have a name in English/Portuguese and a name in Hebrew! While I’m sure nobody will believe doting parents and grandparents, we are all agreed that he is already, at just under a week old, showing considerable physical strength. They have therefore chosen the name Ollie, short for Oliver, primarily because ‘oliveiro’ is ‘olive tree’ in Portuguese: solid, strong, rooted in the earth, and native to Portugal. His Hebrew name is Sol, with its echoes of the sun (he was born on a blazing hot day in July), and also ‘soul’ and ‘sole’, which are two concepts that resonate with the kids.

So what can I tell you about Ollie Sol Orlev, on the basis of 24 hours’ acquaintance? He is a very placid child. Even when hungry, he does not get upset, but just gets the message across by loudly sucking his fist. He is infinitely snuggly, and is very comfortable being cradled or shouldered by a standing or (big bonus here) sitting grandfather. Asleep, he is blissfully peaceful; awake, he is calmly interested in whoever is talking to him.

As for Tao, in the five months since we were last here he has progressed from having a large vocabulary to being a genuine conversationalist. He is fond of a cuddle, but still insists on “No kissing!” He has the energy of a three-year-old (unsurprisingly), and this first day has been just a little over-excited by our arrival. We flatter ourselves that it is not just the gifts we bear (on our own and others’ behalf) that excite him, but also our company. He is as helpful as ever, explaining things to us, taking us round the supermarket, suggesting we put music on the radio in the car, and choosing, from the various options, Brahms’ First Symphony. What’s not to love?!

The weather in Penamacor is about 10 degrees cooler than Madrid (33 instead of 43), but the house is not quite as cool as our aparthotel. However, the air conditioner in the kitchen (which, I had been led to believe when I first viewed the house, did not work) is actually very efficient, and at the moment, sitting at the kitchen table typing this at 5:00 p.m., I am very comfortable. Sadly, our bedroom has no air-conditioning, but last night neither Bernice nor I needed any rocking, and everybody slept on this morning, thankfully.

This afternoon, several members of the household also enjoyed a siesta, something which the Zichron grandson hasn’t yet really mastered. This gave me the chance to write my blog. However, everyone has now woken, so I have to cut this short and get back to burdensome grandfatherly duties. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.