Adam Bird - My Personal Blog

A coincidence for me is finding out that your birthday falls on the same day as the new girl you are dating, or buying a new shirt from Primani and wearing it to a party thinking “nobody will know it only cost me £4.99”, but when you turn up, someone else is wearing the same thing and you are subconsciously forced into avoiding them, whilst offering glances with knowing eyes for the rest of the evening. What then do you make of a series of occurring coincidences, all on the same subject, in a short period of time? My first blog post in this series of #postaweek2011 articles was entitled Faithless not Hopeless , where I looked back at my attendance at last years Alpha Course and summarised my feelings and my own view of Christianity. I spoke about how my parents and surrounding family had an unnerving faith, which I was lacking, all due to not having the belief that they share - that there is actually a son of God and that they are having some kind of relationship with Him. I thou...

Gravesend is currently in the beginnings of a major transformation. Both the 'civic quarter' and 'transport quarter' are being redeveloped as part of a multi-million pound regeneration scheme, which will eventually see a new one-way traffic system, a new bus terminus, a vastly improved train station and much improved pedestrian areas and access routes. However, if Gravesham Council had their way, the redevelopment wouldn't stop there. Last year, plans for Gravesend's ' heritage quarter ' were rejected. These plans, put together by developer Edinburgh House included new housing, a new public square, a children's play area and enhancement of the river to include better walkways and garden areas. Also included in the grand masterplan was a controversial 32 storey residential block, which proved to be the cause of much upset and discussion amongst local residents. As long time readers of this blog will know, I was quite forthright in my condemnat...

A blog can be a story, an article, a quote, or a picture, it can be a link or a collection of links. It can be an opinion or an assessment, a review or an analysis. It could if you wanted it to be, a song or a poem, which seeing as it's Valentine's Day, I thought I'd do something brave and share with you a piece of poetry. Even better than, I'm sharing with you a piece of poetry that I wrote myself! A few posts back, I asked the question " £200, what would you do? " and went on to tell you about my creative writing course and my expectations for it. Well, off I went, my first week and was immediately assigned with my first task; the monthly competition: 'With St Valentine's Day taking place this month we require a poem of no more than 20 lines celebrating unrequited love. This can be in any form. To be handed in on...' “Great!” I thought, “nothing like starting at the deep end!” But have since spent many a quiet moment thinking about what on...

Deciding to write a blog post a week was a bit of a brave challenge, my previous postings over the years were rather more sporadic, but related to something that genuinely happened or was about to, whereas so far, I've had to think a little bit more about my content. "If I can't think of anything", I thought as I started, "I could always talk about football". Except this week, football was all I could talk about! Last Monday was "Deadline Day", the over-hyped Sky powered non-event which normally passes without so much as a whimper, reporters spend their day camping outside top flight stadiums and/or training grounds feeding back nonsense rumours like “I can state, that David Beckham WILL NOT be re-signing for Manchester United, I repeat he WILL NOT. Although I'm hearing Ian Holloway, the Blackpool manager IS interested”. Whilst we at home, we all know it's a load of rubbish but sit engrossed as the mocu-non-drama unfolds on screen. Exc...

The fine people at Archibald Ingall Stretton , the advertising agency in which I work are just as keen on personal staff development as they are on ensuring our professional know-how is up to scratch. Which is why, as part of our personal development, they wave a carrot of two-hundred British pounds as an incentive, to go out into the big bad world and learn something new. This could be anything of our choosing, like learning how to wing-walk, speak Dutch, or cook like Gordon Ramsey. Perhaps we're away on our holidays and get the chance to learn how to Scuba Dive, or Bungee Jump – all skills that enhance our personal being, or personality traits. After all, what better way to find courage and confidence than by doing something confident and courageous? Last year, my first with the agency, I let this benefit pass me by. I decided long ago that wing-walking was something that I could put off for another day, and that Dutch people had pretty good English anyway. What I really w...

January, the month in which people are supposed to spend in a state of morbid depression, a fact now celebrated by an unofficial date that is officially known as 'Blue Monday'. A day in the month which scientists reckon that they have proven, beyond any reasonable doubt to be the most miserable day of the year! Last Monday, instead of feeling blue, Stephanie, Oliver and I decided that the only possible remedy would to be to book a holiday and give us all a reason to live again! Both Stephanie and I know that, baring any financial miracle that 2011 is to be a year of consolidation, settling some overrun debts from our wedding last year, whilst planning for the future and providing Oliver with a long awaited sibling. Our plans to slowly circumnavigate the globe, or to rebuild our home have been put on ice and have been replaced instead by the Karma Sutra and “50 Thrifty Ways to Manage your Weekly Budget”. When Stephanie's parents asked us then, would we fancy a long weeke...

Week three of the #postaweek2011 challenge and so far I've managed to discuss faith and social morality, so perhaps it's time for something a little bit more light-hearted! How about a couple of fairly humorous anecdotes about recollections of boys trips from yesteryear, loosely inspired by BBC3's fly on the wall documentary, Sun, Sex and Suspicious parents? Okay then... Before I set my confessionary heart on the line, it would probably be a sensible idea to tell you just what Sun, Sex and Suspicious parents is all about. It's fairly straightforward, each week we follow two teenagers heading off into Europe, with their friends in tow, as they undergo a modern day rite of passage; the week long booze, drugs and sex fest – the single sex “lads or lasses” holiday. Little do these innocent teens know as their (possibly deranged) parents are following behind and watching each move they make from a variety of secret vantage points. You could be forgiven for thinking, th...

I had anticipated difficulties when deciding to embark upon this #Postaweek blogging challenge; finding suitable content, making the time to meet each deadline, but more importantly writing what I wanted to write about in a coherent and concise way. I wanted to also challenge myself by writing something that maybe I would have steered clear of, by giving my opinion on something that people may disagree upon and have their own views, but then isn't that part of what writing a blog is all about? Over the past few weeks, more and more has been written about Eastenders and the controversial storyline involving a newborn baby's death and the subsequent aftermath, in which a grieving mother swaps her dead child for her next door neighbour's healthy one without them knowing. It may sound like something from a nightmare, but the reality is, these scenes are being played out in lounges across the nation on a near nightly basis and we are living through each characters eyes as ...

Towards the back end of last year, I did something out of my comfort zone. I went to Church and completed "The Alpha Course" where I learnt a little bit more about the Christian faith. This year, I have decided to write more, so that's what my first weekly blog is going to be about. I didn't say this was going to be easy. All my life I have had the spectre of Christian faith surrounding me. My mother, a believer in God but not a practising christian encouraged Jessica and I to learn all the stories, the doctrine and a hymn or two. We were packed off innocently to Sunday school each week like good boys and girls. We learnt about David and Goliath, Samson and his hair, Jonah and the whale, all those Old Testament stories which children the world over are told. As we grew older, my dear Nan began to get further and further into the church, attended regularly and transforming her and my Grandad's lives. I say that with fondness, as they changed from people who w...

A new year, a new start, or at least that's what everyone is led to believe. The truth is, we all start each year with good intentions. To stop smoking, to lose weight, to drink less, to exercise more. But in reality come Valentines day our new years resolutions have been long forgotten, filed away with the Christmas decorations and put in the attic until December when they get dusted down and thought about all over again. I haven't made a resolution this year, partly due to the fact that in October last year I stopped smoking, Just like that. No patches, no replacement therapy, no nothing. Cold turkey. The stress of having to cope with depriving myself of another of lives treats is just too much to bare! There are of course plenty of things that I could do, lose weight, take up a new hobby, do a parachute jump, start collecting stamps like Gramps, but there isn't anything that stands out and inspires me, or indeed, nothing that could change me. Except of course... ma...

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...