Last Wednesday I went to see Janet Duchesne, co-proprietor of the Speech Centre in Mayfield.

While it is a successful commercial business, the proprietors and staff take pride in helping some of the most disabled in our society. Its list of clients is extraordinary. The BBC, High Court judges, the police, the Government, Canton TV and Chailey Heritage.

I was driven to Mayfield by my friend Andrew. The countryside was at its best in soft winter sunshine. Leaves, now gold, were still on the oaks, the grass green. Sheep in their winter coats looked content.

We stopped at Janet's farmhouse. Andrew had been asked to put the birds, ducks, geese and turkeys to bed. They were all over the place, and I prepared to wait.

"To bed, to bed!" Andrew cried and they all filed into the barn.

"Just a minute," muttered Andrew. "I haven't given Stanley his cuddle." Stanley is a large turkey. Andrew lifted the bird off his feet and Stanley snuggled up. I am sure the turkey smiled. I had to ask: "What happens at Christmas?" Andrew was horrified. "They're Janet's pets," he said.

We arrived at the Speech Centre and Janet told me its aim was to help people, professional or personal, disabled or able-bodied, to use computers and information technology effectively.

She described her work in computer speech-recognition. She said it was unfortunate many of the early voice systems had been poor.

Her company used Dragon natural speaking software, which was excellent. Leaning back in my chair, I watched as my speech was turned to text - no tapping the keyboard, no messing with the mouse. I changed the typeface, removed a paragraph. Every command was obeyed. What a difference to my two-fingered progress.

The Speech Centre has many examples of help given to the disabled. Jo has cerebral palsy, a quadriplegic with poor speech. She now works in design. She has been trained by the Speech Centre to use computer-controlled Dragon to dictate. Pippa, from Staffordshire, has the same problems as Jo. She is completing her Higher National Diploma with help from the centre.

It was time to go. I marvelled at the scope of the centre work and its achievements and resolved to return. The car was warm and, half-asleep, I recalled a childhood verse: "Old Mrs Slipper Slapper jumped out of bed, John, John, John the goose has gone and the fox is off to its den-o."

Andrew, did you close the barn door?