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  • My final trek to a rural school this week started off badly. The Derrygonelly bus was not there at nine in the morning. I stood panicking thinking that I would have to cancel my session.

    The ticket seller told me that the 59 bus was often delayed after delivering children to schools in the surrounding area.

    I clambered onto the bus when it finally drew up beside me and asked the driver to tell me when we were near the village school; and heaving my rucksack off my back onto the seat I rechecked my map.

    When we arrived at the village I walked half a mile to the school and was ushered straight into the large, colourful and airy classroom.

    The children enjoyed the five senses activities. I had added an olive to the collection of smells and one boy thought ‘the rock’ smelt disgusting. One girl said she liked the garlic because she was used to eating it at home. Another girl thought the honey tasted like pee.

    Once again the attitude of the class reflected the personality of the teacher quite pleasant and slightly despairing.


    I promised one unhappy boy who did not see the point of writing poems that next week he can write about being angry. After each child had stood in front of the class and read their five senses composition, I told the class I would read them a funny poem to finish the session. They asked me to read from ‘It’s behind you’ a monster poem book. I read a poem called ‘there is a finger in my biscuit tin’ and they adored it.

    I met a visiting speech therapist in the staff room who offered me a lift home all the way to Enniskillen. It was the highlight of my day.
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