Every reindeer has an owner

The big snowy deer who hauled my daughter’s wedding sledge in Northern Sweden tried to bolt. “How long do they live?” I asked its owner. “Fifteen years maximum”, he said, staring meaningfully into its eyes. The reindeer laid its head on his sleeve and waggled its tongue.

Zoe then went off to the Galapagos Islands to watch blue-footed boobies dance. She came back and made me a MySpace page. My poems (a different set from the website) can be read in the blog. She (and the delinquent reindeer) are pictured in Friends, at
www.myspace.com/alisonbrackenbury

Before I flew off to minus thirty, I managed to smuggle a poem on to BBC 6, the digital music station. The presenter Shaun Keaveney, with commendable courage, read it out on his late night show, before pointing out sternly that it was really too optimistic to qualify for his “anti-Valentine” spot. The show (now moving, I think, to breakfast time) is becoming one of my addictions. It plays the music you could have heard forty years ago, but, in my case, seem entirely to have missed.

Next January I will not be in Northern Sweden, but, entirely unassisted by reindeer, will be judging the Poetry Business’ Pamphlet Competition. I love judging competitions. It has all the excitement of hunting, with no blood. Usually I wish the winners could be published. This time, publication is the prize. Details will appear in due course at
http://www.poetrybusiness.co.uk/

No reindeer need apply.

Finally, why should MySpace have all the best pictures? While Helen’s designs for this site have been widely praised, there have been polite laments over the years about my failure to produce any photographs. Where are the glossy author portraits?

So to make amends to my patient critics, here is a photo. It is Shadow. She is now the official face of http://www.alisonbrackenbury.co.uk/. She does not, however, handle rights enquiries.