From an early age on my father taught me a lot of basic skills. One of them: baking your own bread. As far as I can remember I see my tiny hands covered in flour with chunks of butter stick to it, trying hard to knead and shape my own little bread.
At an older age, I’d come back from school finding our house surrounded with the smell of freshly baked bread. A hot loaf of bread with farm butter and brown sugar was the reward of cycling 25 kilometers a day.
Nowadays I am passing my fathers skills on to his granddaughters, and just like me they love every part of it, from kneading the dough ‘till the first bite of a crispy warm loaf with butter and sugar.
Quite handy knowing these skills while living an off grid life and not having any stores around the corner. Thanks dad!