Cup of friendship becomes kitchen quandary

MMMMM----- Recipe via Meal-Master (tm) v8.04
  
       Title: Cup of Friendship Becomes Kitchen Quandary
  Categories: Appetizers
       Yield: 1 servings
  
 MMMMM-----------------AND THEN THERE ARE FRIENDS----------------------
  
   QUOTED FROM: Rod Patterson's Column in the Oregonian FOODday Nov 15,
   1994.
   
    Last year, the 14-year-old son of a friend had a baby.  More
   accurately, he had a 10-pound sack of rice, right off the grocery
   store shelf, that he swaddled in a worn, blue blanket. He wasn't
   supposed to let the precious bundle out of his sight for a couple of
   weeks.
    It was a school project, a lesson in responsibility.  And a lesson
   between the lines in the perils of becoming a teen-age parent.
   
    You think taking care of a sack of rice is hard?  Try a real baby.
   That's what the school wanted to get across.  Ha! Our public schools
   should wise up.  Throw out the rice babies.  Give the kids some Amish
   Friendship Bread Starter!  Then the kids would learn responsibility.
   With a capital R. Real Fast! I'm three times the age of my friend's
   son, and I still had some learning to do.
   
    Another friend thrust a cup of the bread starter into my arms as I
   left his house the other day.  He shoved a piece of paper in my
   pocket. "It's Day Six," was all he said as he and his family waved
   goodbye. I could see them smiling knowingly in the rearview mirror.
    I was the recipient of a bread-starter version of the chain letter.
   My "baby" was given to me in an old plastic salsa container.
   
    DAY SIX.  The instructions, listing Day One through Day 10, said
   that was the day I was to add to the starter a cup of milk, a cup of
   sugar and a cup of flour and to mix well.
   
    Great. I got home late.  The milk in the refrigerator -- barely a
   cup left -- was at the high end of its expiration date.  I had just a
   cup of sugar. And, well, less than a cup of flour.
    But I was darned if I was going to go to the store when all I wanted
   to do was go to bed.  I dumped in what I had, mixed it up in a glass
   bowl and covered it with a dish towel.  That would have to do.
   
    I liked Day Seven . It said to do nothing.
    All I had to do on Day Eight was stir the stuff.
    On Day Nine I was to do nothing again.
   
    The peace ended on Day Ten though.  I had to add more milk, sugar and
   flour.  I had to stir.  Then I was to take out three one-cup
   measurements and give two cups to two friends, saving a cup for
   myself.
   
    To the rest, I was to add a whole bunch of other stuff and bake some
   bread. Only trouble was, I hadn't gone to the store, and I had been
   out of milk, sugar and flour since Day Six.  Day Ten came and went.
   So did Day Eleven.
   
    The actual culmination of the Amish Friendship Bread into edible
   form -- two beautiful, brown-topped loaves -- came on Day Twelve,
   with no bad consequences.  In fact, the stuff was pretty good.
    And good it should have been.  After all, it took five days longer
   to make than the whole world did!
   
   Source: Rod Patterson's column. Oregonian FOODday; November 15, 1994
   Typos by Dorothy Flatman, 1995 From: Dorothy Flatman Date: 01-13-95
  
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