Den første blogpost jeg skrev, handlede om at bage et brød med min trofaste melmølle som hjælper.
The first blog post MotherOwl ever wrote was "How to bake a bread". It would be impossible witout the wonderful flour mill.
For et par brød siden stoppede møllen. Den kom med halvkvalte lyde og kørte ikke rundt som den plejede. Normalt har den så forædt sig på et par korn, så Uglemor skruede møllen helt op på "groft". Den indstilling slipper nærmest hele kerner igennem. Men det hjalp ikke spor. Møllen lød stadig bare sært. Uglemor begyndte at skille møllen ad - det er de lavet til, og det sker ind i mellem for at støvsuge den, men nu rørte den sig ikke ud af flækken. Uglemor måtte tilkalde hjælp. Heldigvis var skribenten hje
mme og optrådte som ridderen på den hvide hest,. Sammen fik vi den skilt ad. Uglemor rystede så kornene ud på en bageplade (de skulle jo bruges igen). Melmølle vejer 13 kilo, og er ikke handy, så det kræver tungen lige i munden: Risle, risle, PLONK, risle. PLONK? hvad sagde dog plonk? Uglemor rodede kernerne igennem og regnede med at finde en sten. Men hun fandt en lille, deformeret og blankslidt metaldims ...
Så støvsugede Uglemor memøllen, børstede alle kroge med en stiv børste og satte den pænt sammen igen, og tænk den virkede! Medens brødene hævede fik møllen en ordentlig rengøring og en omgang olie som tak.
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Some bread ago the mill stopped. Just stopped, It made some strangled sounds, but no flour came out. Normally it's a grain or two stuck between the stones. MotherOwl turned the regulator all the way to "coarse" - almost whole grains come through at this setting, but to no avail. MotherOwl then proccede to taking apart the mill, the stones sure could use a thorough cleaning. The mill is made for this, and it is taken apart for cleaning now and then. But the stones were stuck. MotherOwl had to call for reinforcement. Luckly the Writer was at home and came running to ait an Owl in distress, and together we got it apast. Then MotherOwl shook out all the grains on a baking sheet, the mill is quite heavy (13 kg) and unwieldy, so this procedure requires some concentration. Rattle, rattle, rattle, PLOINK, rattle. What went PLOINK here? MotherOwl sorted througt the grain, fully expecting to find a small stone, but no, a shiny, metallic, deformed object was disclosed.
Well MotherOwl vacuumed the mill and put it back together. When the bread was made, the mill got a rubbing down with oil as a thank you.
Her er så den skyldige metaldims, og en normal tændstik til sammenligning. Det er utroligt at noget så småt kan lave så meget rvage. Det viste sig ved nærmere inspektion at være en skrue. Den må være trillet ned fra køkkenbordet og end i melsækken medens nogen reparerede et eller andet elektrisk. Nu er melsækken lukket med en klemme for at undgå gentagelser.
Medens vi spiste det meste af brødene, fortelte Uglemor om møllen og skruen, og Trolli spurgte,, hvorlænge vi havde haft møllen. Han kunne ikke huske at den ikke havde været der. Uglemor undersøgte sagen og svarede at det var ikke så sært, for vi havde haft møllen et år længere end ham. Den er altså 19 år gammel, og kører fint hvis ikke man fodrer den med skruer.
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Here's the metallic object and a standard match. Incredible that such a small thing was able to stop the mill. It was the remnants of a screw. It must have fallen down in the grain sac form some repair project in the Owlery. The sack of grains is now closed with a clothes peg to stop things from falling into it and clogging the mill.
While we ate the breads MotherOwl told of this mishap and the happy ending.
Trolli asked, how old this mill was, he could not remember it not being
there. MotherOwl found an old letter, and told that no wonder he could
not, the mill jouined the Owlery the year before he was born. This makes
the mill 19 years old, and still going strong, barring an obstructing
screw now and then.
*) NOTE: In the comments to this post, I promised a Google translate-translation, and my own. Now I've finally done it.
Here
