Ⓐ - Ⓩ R - Rejser

Hver dag klokken 12 kommer der et A-Z indlæg. Temaet er ekkoer, de løse ender, halve projekter, nye begyndelser, gyldne løfter og lokkende udsigter. Men jeg ville ikke være Uglemor, hvis ikke der sneg sig nye projekter og ideer ind i denne omgang A-Z også.
     Denne gang en dag for tidligt. Der er ikke noget Q og i morgen er det onsdag.

Ⓐ - Ⓩ

Every day at noon a new A-Z post goes live. The theme is Echoes, finishing touches, half done projects and endings. But I would not be MotherOwl if these posts would not contain more than a fair share of new beginnings and plans.
This post comes a day early. There's no Q coming up and tomorrow is Wednesday.

R for Rejse  =  Travel

Tilbage i 2013 sluttede jeg et indlæg sådan her

     I København tog vi afsked med resten af gruppen, afleverede ministrantdragterne og begyndte vores hjemtur. Denne smukke springvandsmælkebøtte tog Minimax et billede af, før alt kaosset startede, og fik vores hjemrejse til at vare lige så længe som turen Firenze-København. Men mere derom i blogposten Et kaotisk døgn, der kommer senere.

Det må være på tide at bringe slutningen.

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We haven't been travelling this year, but back in 2013 this is how a post ended:

In Copenhagen we said goodbye to the rest of the group, handed in the mass servers' vestments and began our journey home. It was to become as long as the trip Florence-Copenhagen, and deserves its own blogpost - Our chaotic day - coming later.

The tale of our chaotic day is long overdue:

Vi begynder hvor vi slap: Københavns lufthavn med den smukke mælkebøttespringvand.
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We continue where we left off, at Copenhagen airport by the dandelion fountain.

     Vi skulle jo bare hen i bilen og køre en times tid, så ville vi være hjemme, så vi skyndte os ikke. Vi var landet lidt over 12 om natten. Så inden vi havde sagt farvel til alle, fundet vore kufferter og fundet ud af lufthavnen i den rigtige retning, var klokken næsten 1. Vi satte os ind i bilen, de da også startede fint, men så ... håndbremsen der havde stået trukket en uge, ville ikke slippe. Vi rystede bilen, sparkede til hjulene, prøvede at køre, kort sagt alt det der plejer at virke. Det virkede bare ikke. Så der vat til sidst ikke andet at gøre end at tage bagagen og lade Zeppelineren stå.
     Metroen var forsinket, så vi vandrede ned igen og tog kystbanen. Da vi nåede Københavns Hovedbanegård, mødtes vi af lukkede trapper. Hovedbanegården var lukket! Det sidste S-tog hjem var kørt for et stykke tid siden. Så stod vi dér.
     Uglemor fik den geniale idé at så måtte vi jo kunne tage en natbus. Men inden vi havde fundet ud af, hvor den holdt henne, kørte den. Vi så den køre - Øv! Den venlige chauffør i en anden natbus fortalte os, at det smarteste ville være at tage med ham til en anden station, og derfra en taxa hjem. Så vi bumlede en tre kvarters tid gennem natten i en næsten tom natbus, og stod så af på en ukendt, temmelig forblæst station på kystbanen. Der ventede ikke én, men to taxaer, de havde nemlig ikke en der var stor nok til alle os. Suk. Vi blev så kørt det sidste stykke vej hjem medens det stadig blæste mere og mere. Taxachaufføren fortalte at de havde lovet en ondskabsfuld storm for det kommende døgn.
     Endelig klokken halv fem om morgenen stod vi foran vores hoveddør. Det havde taget lige så lang tid som bus og fly tilsammen. Så gik vi hurtigst muligt i seng og sov indtil vækkeuret ringede næste morgen klokken kvart i otte.
     Skribenten skulle nemlig til København og holde et foredrag.

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     We just had to go to the car and drive for an hour, then we would be home, so we didn't rush.
We arrived a little past midnight. Before we had said goodbye to everyone, found our suitcases and found our way out of the airport in the right direction, it was almost 1 o'clock. We sat down in the car, it started alrigth, but then ... the handbrake that had been used for week wouldn't let go. We shook the car, kicked the wheels, tryed drive, in short everything that usually works. It just didn't work. There was nothing else to do than to take our luggage and leave the zeppelin behind.
     The subway was delayed, so we walked down again and took a train. When we reached Copenhagen Central Station, we met by closed stairs. The main train station was closed! The last S-train home had left a while ago. There we stood. We got the brilliant idea to catch a night bus. But before we had found out where it departed, it had left. We saw it leave - Bugger! The friendly driver in another night bus told us that the smartest would be to go with him to another station, and from there take a taxi home. So we abled for three quarters of an hour through the night in an almost empty night bus, and then debarked on an unknown, windblown coastal station. Not one, but two taxis waited for us, as they did not have one big enough for all of us. Sigh.
While we were on the last lap home it became more and more windy. The taxi driver told us that a mean storm (his words) was promised for the upcoming day.
     Finally at half past five in the morning we stood in front of our house. We went to bed as soon as possible and slept until the alarm clock called us next morning at a quarter to eight. The Writer was going to teach in Copenhagen.

Her er Zeppelineren på en bedre dag.
 - - - - -
The Zeppelin from a happyer day.

Uglemor og Ugleungerne tog det roligt. Ingen af Ugleungerne gik i skole, men Trolden passede dog sine klavertimer, og kom gennemblødt hjem.
     Uglemor tog på indkøb, da Trolden var kommet hjem. Og ih, hvor det dog blæste. Så meget at Uglemor begyndte at frygte for at der skulle ske noget med Ugleboet. Men heldigvis havde de fornuftige Ugleunder lukket alle vinduer og lagt de farlige ting ned. Vi ryddede Ugleboets have for haveborde og stole, vandkander, stiger, drivbænke og hvad der ellers kunne tænkes at flyve væk.
     Skribenten var stadigvæk i København, og inden han nåede hjem, stod tog og busser stille. Han ringede rundt og fandt en ledig sofa hoes en ven i byen. Så Uglemor og Ugleungerne var helt alene hjemme i den værste storm i lang tid.
     Medens vi forberedte aftensmaden, hørte vi over stormens hylen en sær, rumlende lyd. Vi er vant til at naboens heste larmer temmelig meget, så vi tog os ikke særligt af det. Så skulle Uglemor hente lidt krydderurter. Udenfor mødte der et farligt syn. Et stort asketræ var væltet og dets grene lå hen over taget på udhuset, hvor farfar bor (Han var heldigvis ikke hjemme).
     Uglemor gik videre og hørte en sær, raslende lyd bagved. Hun sprang ind under buen, og hørte en tagsten ramme lige bag sig. Urgh. Nu var passagen lige bag hende fyldt af grene og tagsten. Heldigvis er der også en havedør, så Uglemor gik ind ad den, låste den, og trak gardinerne for alle vinduerne.
      Der skete ikke mere, selv om stormen tog til i styrke og det var meget uhyggeligt.
      I vores landsby var der adskillige væltede træer, flere tagsten blæste af kirken, og ting fløjet rundt over det hele.

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MotherOwl and the Owlets took it easy. The Owlets did not go to school, but Trolli attended piano lessons, and when he arrived home - drenched! - MotherOwl went shopping.
  In town she was almost blown away and hurried home with the next bus, afraid to find the Owlery hit by disaster as we have several old trees near the house. But the wise little Owlets had closed all windows and doors and everything was fine. We spent the next hour or so tying down and putting away.
  The Writer was still at work in Copenhagen, and before he was able to return, all traffic was stopped, and he had to phone friends in town until he found a place to stay overnight. MotherOwl and the Owlets were alone in the worst storm ever.

Darkness fell, and we started cooking. We heard some strange sounds, but ascribed them to the horses at the neighbours'.
  Then MotherOwl foolhardily left the house to pick herbs for the meal. Outside a part of a giant tree had fallen and the branches lay on top of  Granddad's house (he was not at home).
   As she continued, MotherOwl heard a scraping, rushing sound and jumped under the arch connecting the two houses. A wise move as branches and roof tiles fell from the small house. One tile just missing MotherOwl. As the way back was unsafe, MotherOwl entered the house via the garden door, made sure that all windows were closed and pulled all curtains tight.
  Nothing more happened, but it was very noisy and scaring.
   In our small village several trees had fallen, tiles were blown down from the church, and in general things had been blown around.

Og resultatet af den ondskabsfulde storm
Lidt af dette er en gentagelse fra Efter stormen.
 - - - - -
And the result of the mean storm.
A bit of this is a repetition from After the Storm.