The Last Sentence of This Entry Just Begs Fate to Screw With Me

Sunday afternoon, in an effort to raise my spirits following the whole Tooth Fairy ordeal, Hugh took the children and me to a nearby sunflower farm because; what could be more mood elevating than sunflowers?

Prozac comes to mind but, I digress.

So, yes; the sunflower farm. In the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that; it isn’t technically a sunflower farm; it’s an RV park whose owners just happen to grow giant-ass sunflowers in an effort to shield their guests from the unsightly mess of a junkyard next door, a strategy that has worked quite well for them, by the way.

Anyway….

….. the elderly couple who owns the park bought cabinets from Hugh a while back and, like a lot of old people do; they took a liking to Hugh.

Seriously; I have no idea what it is with Hugh and the old people but it happens ALL THE TIME.

And… upon hearing of his liking for cucumber salad and okra (blech); they have been more than generous with their garden bounty, keeping us in vegetables for most of the summer. When the sunflowers began to droop recently; they suggested that Hugh bring the children out to cut some seed-heads for drying which, is how we found ourselves doing this:

And, I’ll be damned if it didn’t make me feel just the tiniest bit better.

We left the park with six giant seed-heads which will provide us with more than enough seeds to eat as well as some to plant ourselves, next year. We also left with a bag of Amish Friendship Bread starter that the couple insisted we take and, I say insisted because I was quite reluctant to accept. Why, you ask?

Because, in case you don’t know, there is a lot of pressure involved in the care and keeping of Amish Friendship Bread starter. Don't believe me? Allow me to educate you.

The starter resembles baby puke and comes in a Ziploc baggie with a list of instructions that you follow each day for, oh, ten days or so. On days one through five, you “mush” the bag, on day six, you feed the starter a cup of flour, some sugar and, I forget what else. Then, you continue to “mush” the bag on days seven through ten at which point you divide the starter into several additional baggies, one of which you combine with some other ingredients and bake. The left-over baggies; you give to your friends along with the recipe; hence the name of the bread.

Yes, I know; it sounds simple.

That's what I thought when I tried it about seven years ago. For the record, following too many consecutive days of my forgetting to "mush" the bag appropriatly, it exploded all over my kitchen. And, by exploded, I mean EXPLODED!

See? Pressure, people!

Also, the bag warns that, should you, for any reason, mess it up; you are screwed because only Amish people know the top-secret recipe for the original starter. So, if you want to taste the delectable goodness that is the Friendship Bread; you better have an Amish friend with a forgiving nature, willing to make your pathetic ass a new batch.

That, or, you know, Google.

Not that I’ll need that link, though because, this time, I got smart; I scheduled the “mushing” schedule into my day planner.

So, what could possibly go wrong?