It’s hard to get excited about mulching. In fact, most aspects of farming are tedious and not too exciting. Sitting in the library researching various food commodities over the years has meant that I have spent many an hour day dreaming about becoming a farmer and how beautiful and fulfilling my life would be.

I am a farmer now. A Jewish farmer to boot. I’m currently a participant of Adamah, the Isabella Freedman’s Jewish organic farming program that Anna has written about. My name is Jeff and this is my first post on The Jew and The Carrot.

I spent all of yesterday mulching — meaning I placed hay, most of which was mixed with manure, across beds of potatoes. I also spent today mulching and I very well may spend the next few weeks mulching. The way our farm works is that we have divided the tasks. Therefore, I may spend one day planting zucchinis, then one day pounding posts to stake tomatoes, then another pushing the mechanical tiller to prepare the soil for planting, etc. Each task is somewhat laborious, quite dirty, and in the case of mulching, simply annoying.

However, my day dreams in the library were not way off. Yesterday, while mulching, I looked up and saw the farm on a macro-scale. I took my mind off of my individual task and saw the whole process of sustainable organic agriculture taking place. Mulch does great things. It prevents weeds from growing and keeps the soil cool and moist for the microorganisms who improve the soil. Huge industrial farms do not use mulch. Instead they spray herbicides. I also saw how beautiful the beds of potatoes looked, golden as the sun hit the hay, and how inspiring it was to have 14 people all working different tasks to make the farm run.

As my body aches and my eyes struggle to stay open, I am counting the hours until sundown. For the first time in my life I feel as if I have earned my Shabbat. And Shabbat at Adamah is no joke. After we close up the field, we all separate and use the river as our mikveh to purify ourselves, we harvest the food we will cook for the night’s Shabbat dinner, and most importantly, we cease our mulching duties. And for the only time during the week, we have the opportunity to sleep late and smell good.

Shabbat Shalom from the Isabella Freedman Center, and from a foodie’s day dream.