The Huffington Post is running a contest to find the hottest organic farmer in the country. And by hot, they mean cute. Sexy. According to HuffPost Green, organic farmers are “heroes and rock stars,” adding that “there’s nothing more attractive than someone who likes to get their hands dirty, supports green eating and looks great doing it.”

We couldn’t agree more. Though we might be a bit prejudiced.

I checked out the latest Huffington Post organic farmer entries, and while there are some darn fine specimens out there, they don’t hold a candle to our crew of farmers. Take Davy, for example. Not only was he a Captain in the Air Force, but to top it off


he looks like this. Cute, right? One heck of a lot cuter than the farmers on the HuffPost slideshow, believe me. Especially if you like that rugged, Jeremiah Johnson look. (And who doesn’t?)

And there’s Mary, she of the sparkling red hair.


Who besides a natural farm girl would pick up and gently cradle a Texas alligator lizard to rescue it from the hungry beaks of roving chickens?


There’s some real beauty for you.

The alligator lizard is nothing to sneeze at either, when it comes to good looks.


Even the reptiles are attractive here. Those turquoise eyes are enough to make any Gerrhonotus infernalis swoon!

Davy and Mary are much younger than Dana, John and me. (Probably the Texas alligator lizard is, too, yet I haven’t a clue how to tell. What do you do, count the rings on its tail?) Still, I’d say we three…um…wizened-with-age farmers can still hold our own. While the years+plus+gravity equation is busy doing its inevitable dirty work, I do believe the ultimate sense of style we’ve developed and perfected over time more than makes up for a little sag here, a couple wrinkles there, and the daily sproinging of newly minted gray hairs.


For example, notice how proud I am of my “high water” pants and white socks. I don’t know that even lovely Mary could make this fashion statement quite so eloquently.

I can’t begin to compete with Dana, though, no matter what I do.


I mean, really. Why bother trying?

And although I’ve included the following photo of Farmer John in a previous newsletter, I can’t help but reprint it here. Because what’s more appealing than a man in unwashed pajama pants, holding a bank bag?


He may be in serious need of a shower, but honey, he’s clutching cold, hard cash in that bag. Now that’s sexy!

As stunning as we all are here at the farm, I would never dream of entering any one of us in the Huffington Post contest. Nor would I want you to do it. I find that kind of solicitation tacky, especially when you’re talking beauty contests. The knowledge that any one of us would crush the competition is enough for me.

The Thrill of Okra

Besides, if the other contestants were to see this picture of Dana (which she entitles “The Offspring of Minnie Pearl and the Scarecrow”), they’d simply die of jealousy.

***Here’s what your beauty queens will be bringing to the farm stand on Wednesday:

Napa cabbage; tender & sweet Farao cabbages; head lettuces (green leaf, red leaf and romaine); Provencal lettuce/chicory salad mix; the first of the fall spinach; possibly the last of the “ugly” butternut squash (its beauty is on the inside – delicious!); arugula; bunches of chard; bunches of Asian greens; bunches of Brussels greens; broccoli greens (sooooo good for you!); radishes; bell peppers; Cubanelle peppers; eggplant; some cauliflower (the end of this crop…but more coming soon!); and several “some of this’s and thats.”

**In case you’re wondering, the farm stand will be OPEN the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

***People have asked how best to reply to the blog. If you’re receiving this via email, you can either click on the “comment” link below…or just hit your “reply” button to get directly to me.

Jo Dwyer
Angel Valley Organic Farm
Farm stands:
In Jonestown on FM1431 at the blinking yellow light, Saturdays beginning at 10 a.m.;
In NW Austin on Jollyville Road between Oak Knoll and Duval (at the Asian American Cultural Center), Wednesdays beginning at 10 a.m.