A farmers’ date night

A bit of parenting advice I hear over and over again is to keep your relationship with your spouse special: make time for each other, without the kids, and set a regular date night.

Well by night-time, I’m pretty much not fun company anymore, so last week, we went on a date breakfast. We hired a sitter, and went to La Esquina for some quiet, uninterrupted conversation. It really was recharging, and I vowed to do it again.

This week, we’ve spent a lot of time in the garden (even though I said we were taking the week off–didn’t happen!) We are mostly cleaning up the farm, getting it ready for the upcoming season. It’s like fall time in August, everything is dry and dead, except spring follows.¬†Understanding the seasonal rhythms of the tropics has me all crazy.

Anyway, we were rolling up this grow cloth, and sorting through what we can reuse and what we have to throw away. It got pretty romantic.

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Here’s Carlos holding his end, saying, “c’mon beautiful”. ¬†Vente pa’ca.

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And here I am, taking baby steps towards him, eyes locked, dopey love smile on my face. Sigh.

With a job like this, who needs date night?

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