Janis Owens

Just when it couldn’t get any colder or greyer in these old Florida woods, a murmur of springtime hope emerges: the Spring 2012 schedule of The Great Southern Cracker Roadshow!

Sharpen yer pocketknives! Save yer loose change!

More details as they emerge and a brand-new website in the works – stay tuned. Keep your radio set on Cracker!

I am keeping an eye on the farm section of Craig’s list, looking for pigs and a mule, and came upon the following ad, posted last week, from the Suwannee Hardware store in White Springs. The ad is self-explanatory and demonstrates that you can’t keep a good onion down. 

ONION SETS - $4.00

THESE ONION SETS CAME FROM UP NORTH — BUT I CAN’T CALL THERE NAME — THE ONION POLICE CAME TO MY STORE AND TOLD ME IT WAS AGAINST THE LAW TO USE THERE NAME — SO WE ARE SELLING SWEET ONION SETS FROM THE NORTH.

SUWANNEE HARDWARE AND FEED

16660 SPRING STREET (HWY 41)

WHITE SPRINGS, FL 32096

386-397-2551

If you know your local onions, you’ll realize that The North ain’t that far North of here, but just over a near-by state line. But I’ll keep my mouth shut. Don’t want the Onion Police showing up around here. 

I’ve got a good mind to drive up there today to shake the owner’s hand. His ad made my day. I will also invest in a few sets of the Onion that Dare Not Speak It’s Name. 

I am pleased to report that Isabel is carrying on the family tradition of inventing fine dishes for holiday feasts. I came home last night to her latest creation, which is creamy, healthy and maybe the best soup I’ve ever eaten. She and Chris are trying their hand at organic farming, and they grew the basil in our side yard. I think it might be the secret to the dish – that and the kefir, which is cultured milk and can be found right next to the buttermilk on the dairy isle. It’s supposed to be good for you and I’m sure a good Mongolian Cracker invented it sometime in the early eons of time.

From our table to yours, happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving Potato Basil Chicken Soup

1 box chicken broth

2 cans cream of chicken soup

1 cup sour cream

½ cup kefir

10 fresh basil leaves, chopped

4 cups cubed potatoes

1 cubed onion

3 teaspoons garlic powder

2 cups shredded chicken

Salt and pepper to taste

1. Combine all ingredients and bring to low boil.

2. Turn down heat and let simmer till potatoes are soft.

Serve 4-6 as meal, or 8 as soup course

I am deep in the edit of new novel, but came upon a map that I had to share with the rest of the class. I share it because I often come across fellow Crackers in central Florida who brag about being fourth and fifth generation. Well, my peeps have been right up there in old West Florida since Andrew Jackson ran off the Indians - and a few were Indians who resisted being run off. The catch is that they lived just above the Jackson County line in what is now Alabama, which gives the very wrong impression that I am not a legal heir to the title of Queen of the Florida Crackers, but a generic first-generation tourist.

To settle the issue, once and for all, I’ve opened the Cracker Vault and found a copy of a map of Old Spanish West Florida. Note the boundaries, and dates, and rest assured that my branch of Crackerdom has been cooking cornbread in Florida since 1767. Granted, we eventually lost the land, the cows - everything but the frying pan and the mules - but we’re the Genuine Item. We got the census, the stories, and the body fat to prove it. 

I have decided to diversify my career path and just put a deposit down on a pair of Gloucestershire Old Spot pigs. They are technically a birthday present from my husband, who ends up doing most of the feeding duties around here, and is always cagey about more mouths to feed. I told him I was looking at a pearl ring (actually, I was) then at the last minute, I found a local breeder for the fine Old Spots, and decided to fore-go the jewelry in favorite of a future in pigs.

The deviation isn’t as peculiar as it sounds, as my granddaddy raised prize-winning sows, and I’ve always felt a particular affinity with the lowly pig. I intend to print on my new business card: Author, Essayist, Pig Farmer, Friend.

I am not yet sure that I will ever be able to bring myself to eat any of my pig-children, but time will tell. I’ll cross that pig when I come to it. In time, I am sure I’ll become the kind of besotted old Cracker farmer who will insist that every guest wade down the field to see my darlings. Brace yourself for the invitation, and shod yourself accordingly. There will be no exceptions. Love me, love my pig.