Words for Wednesday - 17 January -- Unicorn Farm 15

This week's prompts are provided by Lissa at The Memory of Rain.

The first prompt is the sound of
Mountain Rain and Thunderstorm
I think it's the first time we have had 
an audio prompt.

The others are

1. it's going to rain today
2. chasing storms
3. umbrellas
4. charmed
5. a long journey
6. trains


Once again I wrote a small chapter from my mock autobiography, and once again I took up the additional challenge of using the prompts in the order they were given.

Some days have passed since Susan received the first letter of the year.

January was unusually wet and dreary, school was bad, even worse than usual, Susan thought. Her classmates had never been very nice to her, but after an epic fight in 4th form they had mostly left her alone. Now the teachers seemed to be after her as well, or maybe she had just begun to imagine things after experiencing how learning could be at The Unicorn Farm.
She made her homework dutifully each day, in a hurry to be able to pour over her magic books. She had now learned to send letters with magic, for Heidi's next letter had told her to read the note at page 114 in Spells and Cantrippes for Daily Use. The old anonymous tome had lain unopened in the bottom of her carpet bag, but it was actually quite a handy book. Susan was slowly beginning to rely more on her own powers and on her magic when faced with a problem. This earned her strange looks from her parents and sister, and only the fact that she DID NOT bring her wand to school had saved her from trouble there.
Actually the "DO NOT bring your wand into that other world"-rule was one the apprentices got hammered into their brain on The Farm.
But her growing confidence and new problem solving techniques; skills she had no idea of possessing, was what caused her problems.

This Tuesday was just as dreary as the rest of the month had been. After hurrying through her history lessons, Susan grabbed her wand and a few other things, bent on trying out a few cantrips somewhere outdoor.Even with rain coming and going "her place" would be fairly dry.
That place was not of that other world, at least not as Susan understood tit. It was an abandoned lumber yard with a humongous walnut tree and some decrepit, red buildings. It was also the place where Susan, Heidi, Lis and Tue had installed the portal in one of the hottest summers ever.

Her mother called her as she was leaving the house: " Susan! Are you leaving now?" Susan nodded, and her mother continued: "It's going to rain today. Again! If you have to go chasing storms, then at least dress for it.Umbrellas are no good in this weather. You've turned too many of them inside out lately."
"Sorry, Mum," Susan said. "I'm going to pull on my rain gear. I'll be home for dinner. Promise." Susan gave her mother a hug before she disappeared into her study again.

Susan locked her bike and quickly ran up to her place in the old lumber yard. Nobody could see her here, nobody ever came all the way here, except for late September when the walnuts were ripe. This was Susan's secret place. The portal was over in the far corner, invisible to all but fellow magicians. That made her feel safe and even more at home here. It was a charmed place in her rather miserable life. She sat down with her back to the long, red building. It was fairly dry here, the drops were pattering on the roof over her head and running thorough the old drain pipes, making rivulets meandering from the house. The thunder rolled now and then, but she was not cold. Magic could help in so many small ways.
She pulled some letters out of her deepest pocket. Heidi's newest letter had arrived only this morning, and she intended to study every word before it became too dark.

"Dear Susan!
We have looked more closely at the photo from the train station, and now we do not think it really is your father in the photo, even though I agree that it looks a lot like him. We suspect that Torben used the other half of the potion to look unsuspicious for a long journey, since we now know - or at least have a strong suspicion of - where he went. As you guessed, he used the trains to go to Copenhagen -  all the way to the airport even.
He went to the airport to pick up somebody. Who that somebody is, we do not know, but we got a glimpse of them in the news, as some foreign head of state came by that same plane.
Do watch he news in the coming days. We are all afraid what will happen next.
We sent you a newspaper cutting of the meeting in the airport. You can just see Torben and that other man to the left.
Take care of yourself and your family.
Your friend Heidi"

 Susan sat for some time studying the newspaper clipping in the murky daylight. The quality was not much better than the one from the security camera at the station. Susan got up and ran to her bike. She had an idea. The local library had all the newspapers for way back. Maybe some of the other ones had a better photo. She could always say it was for some homework.

Oprydning og deraf følgende digt.

Cleaning and a poem, but only in Danish, because MotherOwl only translated the Polish verse into Danish.

-- ✎ --

     I går ryddede Uglemor op - ja det gør hun hver dag i større eller mindre udstrækning - men i går ryddede hun sit skrivebord op, og det sker ikke så tit.
     Skrivebordet rummer normalt hvad der vist bedst kan beskrives som kreativt kaos. Men nu var Uglemors lille røde bog, paphjernen, oversigten over Ugleungernes lommepenge og mange andre nyttige ting blevet borte. Uglemor hentede kost og spand og gik i gang.
     Under oprydningen dukkede masser af ting op, der havde været borte i længere tid, blandt andet slutningen på et morsomt vers om seks kokkepiger på polsk, som Uglemor havde leget med at oversætte til dansk.
Her er det så:

Sześć kucharek
Wanda Chotomska

Było sobie sześć kucharek:
Jedna chuda jak sucharek,
jak bułeczka pulchna druga,
trzecia jak makaron długa,
czwarta miała mleczną cerę
i lubiła kluski z serem,
piąta niby pączek tłusta
i jak ocet kwaśna szósta.
Pięć kucharek w mlecznym barze
miało przez nią kwaśne twarze,
bo nic nigdy nie robiła,
tylko ciągle się kłóciła:
z tą najpierwszą o kakao,
co na blachę wykipiało,
a z tą drugą - o talerze
i o każdą dziurkę w serze,
o ryż - z trzecią, o sól - z czwartą,
z piątą zaś - o bułkę tartą...

Og på dansk
Der var engang seks kokkepiger,
hør nu efter hvad jeg siger.
Samme sted de arbejd' fik,
hør nu her, hvordan det gik.
Nummer ét var tynd og mager,
skønt hun elskede ost og kager.
Nummer to var tyk og fed,
ku' knap rokke sig afsted.
Nummer tre var ung og yndig,
hendes suppe næsten syndig.
Nummer fire derimod
var som dagen lang og god.
Nummer fem ku' li sardiner.
Alle fik de sure miner.
Kun på grund af nummer seks,
der var sur som nogen heks.

Der var altid noget i vejen.
Nummer et, pas nu på stegen!
Nummer to, jeg tror du sover,
se kakaoen er kogt over!
Hun ku' skændes med nummer tre
om hver gaffel, kniv og ske.
Selv den blide nummer fire
kunne hun forstå at tirre.
Fem fik skænd for sin dessert,
hvor selv raspen var forkert.

...og så er der ikke mer,
digtet slutter lige der.

Og den røde bog? Den er stadig væk!

Lysere tider -- Brighter Days

Ja det går mod lysere dage, i hvert fald sådan rent meteorologisk. 
      På årets korteste dag skrev DMI: Solopgang: 8.45, solnedgang: 15.35, dagens længde 6:50

I dag lyder de tilsvarende tal: Solopgang: 8:35, solnedgang: 16:05, dagens længde 7:30, tiltaget 0:40
     Men goderne er ikke jævnt fordelt, og den ellers friheds- og lighedselskende Uglemor siger heldigvis! For det er 10 minutter om morgenen, men hele 30 om aftenen. Det kan faktisk mærkes!
Og morgenerne følger snart efter. Om ikke længe vil det være gråt og ikke sort udenfor når vækkeuret ringer. 
  

 Morgenmørke --  Darkish Morning

Brighter days ahead, at least from a meteorological point of view.
Already we have 40 minutes more daylight than at winter solstice. And MotherOwl, who with 6 children has learned that to share equally is the best, notices with glee that those minutes are not equally distributed!
Our mornings are all of 10 minutes longer, while the evenings have gotten the lion's share: 30 minutes more, YES!
And the mornings will follow. Soon it'll be daybreak - or at least not pitch dark outside - when the alarm sounds.

Sne og Sjaggere -- Snow and Fieldfares

     Hver vinter tager Uglemor billeder af sjaggere, i år er ingen undtagelse. Sjaggeren er en trækfugl, der tager sydpå hver vinter - og sydpå, det er her!
     I Ugleboet er der flere æbletræer, og et af dem har skrubsure æbler. De sidder på træet langt ind i efteråret lidt afhængig af stormenes rasen.
     Og hver vinter, sådan her omkring kommer sjaggerne, normalt samtidig med en første sne. Der kommer en flok, nogen gange 70 til 100 fugle, og når de har været her, er æblerne væk. Der ligger kun stilkene og så selve æbleskroget som små, skrøbelige stjerner spredt ud over haven.

-- 🍎🍎🍎 --

Every winter MotherOwl is photographing fieldfares. Fieldfares are "highly migratory" (Wikipedia's wording) and fly South every winter. And South ... it's here!
In the Owlery we have several apple trees, some for eating, some for cooking and one to look at. The flowers are so pretty, but the apples are most sour, inedible. The apples stay on the tree for long, some times until next year, depending only on the storms.
And every winter the fieldfares arrive from further North. They come in big flocks (No special common noun for fieldfares, I'm sorry) often up to 100 or more, often 70ish. When they leave, all the apples are gone We find a stem here and there and then the very cores, laying all over like so many small, pale stars.

Sjagger under æbletræet  -- 🍎🍎🍎 --  A fieldfare under the appletree

Allerede en halv time! -- Half an hour more!

     I dag ender juletiden. Det er Herrens dåb, som falder søndagen efter Helligtrekongerssøndag (med mindre altså Helligtrekongerssøndag er den 7. eller 8. januar, så er det nemlig mandagen lige efter - sært at to dages længere juletid bare er for meget).


     Så i dag tænder vi altså juletræet for sidste gang, i så - eller nok snarere i morgen - fjerner vi al julepynten. Måske med undtagelse af vores julekrybbe, der kan få lov at stå til kyndelmisse. 

-- 💧💧💧 --

Today is the Baptism of the Lord, the end of the Christmas time in the liturgy. The Baptism of the Lord is celebrated on the Sunday following Epiphany Sunday - unless this Sunday is the 7th or 8th, in this case the Baptism of the Lord is celebrated on the Monday after Epiphany - strange things happening - a two days longer Christmas time is just too much or ... ? 

Today our Christmas tree will be lit one last time, and then - or maybe tomorrow - we'll put away all the Christmas ornaments. Maybe the Nativity will survive until Candlemass.

Dagens gode nyhed er, at vi allerede i går passerede en halv times ekstra dagslys. 

Her er dagens tal fra DMI: Solopgang: 8.37 Solnedgang: 16.01 Dagens længde: 7.24. Tiltaget: 0.33

-- 💧💧💧 --

Today's good news: Already yesterday we had more than half an hour extra daylight. 

Today in numbers, courtesy of DMI: Sunrise: 8.37 Sunset: 16.01 Day-length: 7.24. Longer by 0.33