Having been a bread maker for almost 40 years, it comes second nature for me now. I remember the soothing, rhythmic nature of bread making when I was doing so for my family of 5 a couple of times a week, and sometimes more if we had company. Feasting on homemade bread was so much a part of our lives, we took it for granted, I'm sure. As my kids got older, I taught them to make the bread. Our son and daughter each won a Blue ribbon at the local County fair for their bread making skills, and that same daughter sold bread at the local farmer's market.
Because I didn't grow up with homemade bread, I can still remember the first times I had it. The most pronounced was at a friends right after the bread had been taken out of the oven. She slathered it with butter for me and I was in heaven. I think I must have subconsciously determined then to learn how to bake bread myself. The other times were at family holidays where my aunt would always produce some lovely, sugar-glazed rolls that I also remember so distinctly.
I didn't really start to make bread though until after I was married at 21. I had a friend who tutored me, and I am glad she did for though I did a lot of baking at home prior to getting married and thus was well versed in most baking techniques, the whole idea of yeast was a bit daunting for me, I think. Otherwise, why wouldn't I have tried to make bread sooner? I'm guessing because I didn't really know anyone who did make bread and I was needing a little outside encouragement.
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