Adam Bird - My Personal Blog

Lying in bed, trying to keep your eyes and ears open for the noise of reindeer and the falling of soot coming down the chimney, a sense of excitement known later on in life as butterflies. You've written a letter, left some food and drink for Rudolph and his friends. More importantly you've spent the last three hundred and sixty five days being as good a boy as you could possibly be and this was your just reward. You'd succumb finally, but your sleep would be shallow, the slightest creak or squeak and you'd awake again, alert and ready to catch the man with the beard and his sack full of toys. You'd prepared your questions and readied your shoes just in case he asked you to come along with him, just like in the movie. But you realise it was nothing, your baby sister shuffling in the room next door. Back again, into the land of fitful dreams only to wake at the first signs of dawn. Living in town there was no cock crowing but you'd sit staring at the alarm ...

This little corner of the Internet was originally intended as a place to keep Dad up to date with the comings and goings on at home whilst he worked out in Iran. With the Internet now becoming ever more 'social' content found here was gradually being duplicated elsewhere, leading me to question whether or not I needed a website at all. Facebook, the Daddy of all things social on the web wasn't around back in the early naughties when adambird.co.uk went live, and has since grown into a daily institution in people's digital lives. More or less everyone I know is a friend on Facebook and I can share with them photographs of Oliver and the family without worrying about whether or not a complete stranger has accidentally roamed onto my website. I can update news in tiny nuggets of information through the form of a status update, or a tweet and not have to worry about updating the html and RSS on my homepage - v4.0 therefore, is all about the management of content. Using ...

When I was a little boy, Nanny Tracey had a couple of photograph albums, one for me and the other for Auntie Jessica. In amongst the pictures of our birth and first tentative steps were written biographies of what we liked, funny things that we said and other recollections, of friends that we'd made, programmes we'd like to watch and things teacher's had said about us. Mummy and I haven't quite gotten into the same routine, but here on my blog, I can write our own recollections, things that will come back to embarrass you in the years ahead. For example. A week after Mummy and Daddy got married, Daddy had got back home from football and Mummy said that there was a problem with the television, she couldn't work out how to fix it. Daddy took one look and said "that's not a problem, that's broken". After you had gone to bed, and Mummy herself had gone out, Daddy took a look around where the television was to see if there was anything noticeably wr...

What makes us us? What drives us? What guides our reactions to spontaneous decisions in the heat of the moment when there isn't time for thought? Three very tough questions, which there are no real answers, but they are answers in which Roger Ellory tries to discover in his latest book, the Saints of New York. Having written reviews of his previous two novels, and even earlier about my first Ellory discovery, the wonderful "Quiet Belief in Angels", it appears to have become somewhat of an annual blog tradition! It's only right that I keep this tradition up, after all, the author is a reader of these reviews so I wouldn't want him thinking untoward thoughts if I missed this particular book out! We are introduced to Ellory's latest protagonist, homicide detective Frank Parrish amidst a literal blood bath as he attempts to save the life of a girl who has been attacked by her boyfriend, but things, as always don't go according to plan. Parrish, down on h...

Heading into October was a stark reminder of the month that had just past. A month that Stephanie and I have so many treasured memories, for it was of course the month of our marriage. The best way to describe our day would be "indescribable", but throw in the words, amazing, awesome, incredible, beautiful, joyous and we might just be getting somewhere near. We are indebted to all and everyone who came and made our day so very special, for which we will always thank you. As the day unfolded, and we had finally became officially known as Mr and Mrs Bird, Stephanie and I could start to look forward to the moment when Mum and Dad's greatest secret became open knowledge, which was of course, the grand unveiling of our honeymoon destination. Stephanie and I sat, alongside our parents and looked out at eight tables named after destinations which indicated where we would be spending a week together enjoying each others company and spending our first tentative steps as a ma...

It all seems so far away now, but before the eastern delights of Hong Kong and the greatest day ever, twelve blokes headed towards the Balearic Island of Ibiza, some not knowing quite what to expect, but all looking forward to some sun, beers and for me, finally sampling some of the legendary nightlife that the White Isle is famous for. Being my stag weekend of course, I wasn't going to have things entirely my own way. Perfectly demonstrated before I'd even left for the airport! Gareth, being my best man, gave me prior warning that I would be expected to wear something of his choosing to the airport. Unfortunately I nearly never made it! In an attempt to get some well needed sleep before our early departure I drank a small crate of lager as a tonic to get me off, but it nearly worked too well as I slept through my alarm and was woken suddenly by a barrage of voices shouting through my letterbox at some silly time in the am. To the people in the street who were also woken, I...