Father's day

Dear Dad,
I took the day off to putter about in the kitchen, and found myself holding the wooden spoon that you gave to me back when you were teaching me to make bread.  It is the spoon that I reach for most when cooking, and I not only still have it it is in pretty good condition considering forty +  years of hard use.
I remember the brick loaf that I created ( raising time? how about fifteen minutes?) in my eagerness to try making bread.  I also recall that you actually helped me bake the brick, and then even ate a slice.  I was going from good old Betty Crocker who always managed to add in complications that would discourage anyone starting out.  Pro's know when to deep six the instructions, beginners don't.
The next Saturday morning you sat with me and took me through the entire process.  Mixing, kneading, and putting the bowl on the television to let it rise, on to the shaping, final rise and the end product. That was the beginning of really feeling that I had a place in the kitchen.
Bread has been a big part of cooking and kitchen work between us, dad.  I can't think of anything that makes for a better smell in the house.  To me there is nothing that is better than the heel from a fresh loaf spread with butter and melting as I eat.
I still remember supper on baking day where all the heels were taken off the loafs so that they could be eaten fresh.
I passed it on to the boys dad, They may not be using it but they know how, and when the time comes, your gift will be there for them too.
Happy Father's day.
Love Cath

All these years later, I still get a thrill when I take the raw ingredients, and there ends up being food on the table.