🌱 August 2026 – New Beginnings

Posted August 23, 2026

We've been back in town since last Monday. It's taken me a few days just to get back into my rhythm, and I'm still working on it. Everything grows so fast here. Even our trees and bushes seem to be bigger, and we've only been gone for just over three weeks! Over the past few days, we've done a sort of spring cleaning in the house, while I've been running around tying up loose ends all over the farm. I've also been harvesting plenty of interesting fruits. That's probably what I miss most when we're away—eating all of our bounty. Thankfully, Dante was born healthy, and we were able to come back earlier than expected, though we certainly made the best of our time away.

Making the most of your day in the humid tropics means waking up really early. Downpours can begin as early as 11 a.m., so the sooner I'm out in the field, the more I can get done. If it's not overcast, it's frickin' hot in the sun by 8 a.m. I have to make sure I stay hydrated and consume plenty of electrolytes, especially these days when I've been getting up around 7 a.m. That's late out here—just ask any campesino! By the time I'm up and about, the sun is already scorching, and as midday approaches, the heat can become dizzying. On the flip side, if it's a rainy afternoon—as many are—my workday might be over by then unless I feel like working completely drenched.

I'm pretty sure that one of the main permaculture principles is a detailed variation of "work smart, not hard." So, unless it's absolutely necessary, working in the rain is usually a bad idea. Everything becomes more difficult, takes longer, and may even be detrimental to the task at hand. It doesn't matter how much I want to be out there tidying up the entire farm—I need to work with the natural flows of nature, and with my own body.

I must admit that while we were away in Alajuela, I got out of my rhythm. Without the farm to keep me motivated, I had no reason to be getting up at 5:00 a.m. every day. For most of my life, I was actually more of a night owl than an early bird, but this farming life sure did change me. It only took three weeks to get me out of whack again. It would be easy to blame it on the baby, but I know it's really just discipline.

Though, forcing things isn't always the best way to go about life either. We were away for a while, getting back was a whirlwind, and the farm had over three weeks of minimal maintenance. We have two grandmothers in town, a grandfather who lives with us, Tonantzin is no longer the only child, and everyone needs time and attention. Let's just say that a lot has been going on. Honoring the process is important. Sometimes that means sleeping in a little because it's all been exhausting.

I'm really glad we did a spring cleaning right when we got back. It helped clear out the energy in the house for this new beginning. We gave away lots of children's clothes, toys, luggage, adult clothes, shoes, and more. Even though we have a brand-new baby boy, we still had way too many things. Apparently kids attract abundance, and the amount of toys we'd accumulated had gotten out of hand!

Thankfully, we're friends with the owner of Soda Central in the heart of San Vito. Esmilce helps low-income families access affordable food, and we've seen that she sometimes receives and distributes donations. It felt good to drop off our excess things somewhere they might be appreciated. Clearing the house of clutter certainly improved the flow.

We're at the beginning of a new chapter, and I know our load will be a little heavier for a while. That's why we need the ship to be sailing smoothly. Fortunately, Dante has arrived at a time when the farm is already giving its bounty. We're currently waiting on about seven jackfruits (Artocarpus heterophyllus) from five different trees. Recently, we harvested one just before leaving for Alajuela, and it was a scrumptious delight—a soft-fleshed, yellow jackfruit.

Our sole-producing safou tree (Dacryodes edulis) has also gone off for the second time, giving us much more fruit during this harvest. These tasty treats are more like vegetable snacks than fruits. Tossing them into boiled water for about ten minutes is enough to soften the flesh. Their deep blue skins turn grayish after boiling, and underneath the thin skin is about half a centimeter of buttery, bright-green flesh surrounding a large seed. There isn't much food in each fruit, yet what is there is dense, fatty, and satisfying. The flavor is somewhat herbal and lemony. It almost feels like eating guacamole with lemon juice and sweet peppers blended into a homogeneous paste. I don't know any African recipes for safou, so I simply boil a bunch of them and put them in a bowl. I eat them as a snack, almost like pejibayes—though they're very different.

I'm so glad we were able to make it back to catch most of the safou harvest. These fruits are still very rare in Costa Rica, and I'd be surprised if there are any other trees producing in Coto Brus! But safou isn't the only fruit around. We recently ate one of the biggest custard apples (Annona mucosa) I've ever harvested. The abius (Pouteria caimito) are still giving us a few last stragglers, and some of the ice-cream bean trees (Inga edulis) are going at it again. I'm also really excited about our third-ever blood orange (Citrus × sinensis), and we recently harvested our first rambutans (Nephelium lappaceum)!

It has been exciting to be back. Our kindred animals and plants greet us with abundance, and that fills us with joy. Dante is healthy, and it's a blessing that everything has flowed relatively smoothly thus far. While we were gone, our handyman Juan and my father kept up with the construction of the downstairs bedroom. It's starting to look pretty nice. Now we just need to agree on the furniture.

Ever since I stayed at a house with a Murphy bed, I've dreamed of recreating one. I feel like this is the perfect opportunity to learn. Grandpa has been shooting down the idea, but I had A.I. draft me a one-page plan to try to convince him. Either way, when he moves downstairs, it'll open up the large room upstairs for the kids.

We're back to our "diaper laundry factory" days, but it's for a good cause. Heydi is adamant about not using disposable diapers, and I fully support her. That means every day someone is either scrubbing diapers or putting them out to dry—the old-fashioned way. We're lucky that Heydi's mother, Isabel, came to stay with us for a while. She's been helping a lot. Our nights are now filled with the wails of a newborn life coming to grips with its existence and seeking comfort. The whole family is in for the ride, and I think we're taking it pretty well despite the challenges.