Written By You

When I Met Mary Robinson – Written By You

Me and my mum went to hear this lady talk, her name is Mary Robinson, Mary was the President of Ireland, but she was not just any kind of President of Ireland,she was the first woman President of Ireland. She got a Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama in 2009. And was the first President of Ireland to visit  the Queen.

 

Growing up 

Mary grew up in a small town in Ireland, her mum and dad where doctors and  her gran died when she was about 10 years old… When Mary was 17 she went to a finishing school in Paris while deciding if she wanted to become a nun…   In that finishing school  she was the only non-French speaking student there.

 

little light 

Mary Robinson famously put a light in her kitchen window to guide the people that have left Ireland to live a country abroad back home.

 

my question

If you had a chance of asking Mary Robinson a question in front of 600 people, would you do it? I would, and I did. Here’s what I said and what Mary replied:

 

 

 

 

Afterwards Mary signed a copy of her book for me

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Home, Health & Style

Have you ever wondered…about your teeth?

Have you ever had a tooth pulled out by a dentist? If you did, you may have noticed something odd. The roots were probably still attached to the tooth, unlike when a tooth falls out normally. What happens to the root of a tooth, how do teeth grow and why is it important that you take care of them? Samantha Gouldson investigates! 

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Sports

Stories from the Stables – Part 4 – Summer Camp

Summer Camp at the Stables, from Carolyn Ward

Once a year, in August, Stourton Stables had a summer camp.  Fifteen lucky kids were invited to spend a whole week with their pony, grooming, tacking up, and riding every day.  There would be a jumping competition and picnic hacks, a visit to the three counties showground, and a swim at the leisure centre.

I was allocated Heidi, a grey mare with a snotty attitude. Literally. One of her tricks was to toss her head about whilst being ridden and flick massive globs of snot and foam backwards into the rider’s face.

Aside from the snot, she was zippy and responsive, pleasant enough to ride; but her main problem was she was evil to groom and tack up. She was a biter and a kicker. Hence I gave an audible groan when they announced we would have to wash our pony’s tail. Drat!

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