Monday

I’m a librarian in Orkney, which comprises 70 islands off the north coast of Scotland. The library service serves a population of more than 21,000 people, throughout the 20 inhabited islands. The main library is in Kirkwall, with another branch in Stromness and a mobile library that goes round the islands by ferry facilities. We offer a home library service and book boxes are also sent by ferry to the more remote islands.

I spend the day in my office in Kirkwall, writing up minutes from meetings, emailing schools about visits, processing new books, ordering stock and getting resources together for my next couple of school visits.

As I go on my lunch break, I stop and talk to a man whose wife died a little while ago. I’ve seen him a few times and he hangs around the library when he knows I’m about to go for lunch. He’s obviously lonely and enjoys chatting to someone.

Tuesday

Today begins with a lively Bookbug session for children in Stromness, followed by another at a school. Both go brilliantly. The children react to the sad and happy bits, guessing what comes next and even clapping when Eric the panda shows bravery.

Wednesday

I travel to Sanday, with a population of around 550, to visit one of the Bookbug sessions I helped launch and train volunteers for. I travel in a tiny eight-seater plane. It is cramped and the engines are really noisy, but if you get a good seat, it’s amazing to fly over the islands. The sea looks turquoise and it’s fascinating looking down at the communities, the ruins, the seals on the beaches, and wondering why people live where they do.

Thursday

I visit another school in Burray, where I’m to teach the children how to code. This is a recent addition to my job and one that I love, even though I had to teach myself how to do it via YouTube videos because I didn’t feel confident after the one day of training.

Burray is connected to the main island by a causeway, which sometimes gets closed to traffic in very stormy weather as the sea gets blown high over the road. Today it’s open but as I approach in my van, the sea is crashing over the barrier. I stop at one end, watch the waves and try to time my drive to cross between them. It’s exciting and frightening all at once. Halfway across, I misjudge it and a wave covers the van. I arrive at the school a bit shaken, and they congratulate me for making it down.

Bad weather sometimes means I have to cancel trips to schools on other islands because the ferry service can’t run. There are occasions when our mobile library can’t go out; this has an impact on more isolated people who don’t have much human contact and really look forward to it. I always feel like I’m letting them down when this happens.

Friday

After school has finished for the day, teenagers come in to use the computers, read and chat. We get a lot of people coming here to use the computers and wifi. People also come in for help filling out forms for benefits as well as online job applications. In the summer, tourists come to print off a boarding pass, or people from cruises use the internet to catch up on their emails.



Saturday

On weekends we run clubs for children to enable those from outside the town and from other islands to come along. One father tells me he loves being able to come with his son as they don’t live together.

I moved here from Leeds, partly because I wanted my son to grow up somewhere with a sense of community. My work gives me a huge sense of satisfaction and achievement. I see the positive difference I make not only to the younger generation, but to the older ones too. After I spoke at a conference last year, someone tweeted: “She is in an inspiration to us all. She typifies the commitment and entrepreneurial zest of the very best kind of children’s librarian. She may not realise this yet, but the children on Orkney will remember her legacy as adults and parents.” I don’t know if that’s the case, but it would be lovely to think I’ve had that impact.

If you would like to contribute to our My working week series about your job in public services, get in touch by emailing sarah.johnson@theguardian.com