We were the happiest kind of customer
Cumulus Vision is a small consulting firm. Harvest ran our billing life: the team logged time in it daily, invoices went out of it monthly, payments came back through it, and everything synced to Xero. Six seats, $59 a month. It was good software at an easy price, and we recommended it to clients.
Then the pricing changed
Some context first: Harvest was acquired by Bending Spoons in 2025, and started rolling out new plans. Here’s the mechanism, as shown inside our account. At renewal, paid accounts move automatically to the Enterprise plan with “Unlimited usage billing.” The seats are almost a decoy — six seats at $17.50 is $105 a month, less than some legacy plans. The new part is a separate usage layer: a flat $599 a month, or a “Flex” alternative that bills you on tiers of how many projects, tasks, and clients you have — and how much you invoice.
For our account: $105 in seats + $599 usage = $704 a month, about 12× our old bill. We ran the Flex math too — for a consulting firm of our shape it lands within sight of the same number, and it prices your growth: invoice more, owe more. There’s also a Harvest fee added to your clients’ online payments on Flex, waived if you pay the $599.
One more thing worth saying plainly. Harvest’s public pricing calculator shows “Your total price” computed from seats alone, with a footnote that additional usage “is billed based on what you use, so you’re never overpaying.” The usage amounts themselves — including the $599 — appear nowhere public that we could find; they’re shown only inside your account. So the calculator quoted us a “total price” of $105 while our actual renewal was $704, and we can only tell you what our account was shown. Whether every account sees the same numbers, we have no way to know.
To be fair: they offered us a generous discount on the first year if we committed. But a discount on year one doesn’t change year two — the destination price was the price, and everyone involved knew it. We decided we’d rather solve it once than negotiate it annually.
Call it $8,400 a year for a timesheet and an invoice generator.
Here’s the thing — we build software for a living
We’d idly thought about replacing Harvest for years, the way you think about re-tiling a bathroom that works fine. At $59 a month it was never worth the weekend. The renewal notice recategorized the project instantly: $8,400 a year isn’t a subscription, it’s a budget line — and budget lines get engineering attention.
Judging by the number of people on Reddit announcing their own replacements or switching to alternative apps, we weren’t alone in that math. Honestly? For anyone with software development experience, this space is not that challenging. Time tracking and invoicing is a well-understood problem. That’s exactly why the new pricing felt wrong.
Two days later
Working with AI coding agents (Claude Code, running teams of agents in parallel), we went from empty repo to production in two days: time tracking with timers, the exact invoice generator we were used to — same detail levels, same 6-minute rounding, same numbering sequence — ACH payments embedded on client invoice pages, and the full Xero sync working end to end, with a few improvements over the integration we’d left behind.
All 13 years of history came along: every entry, every invoice, every payment, verified row for row against the originals. The team stopped opening Harvest within the first day; the whole team was fully cut over in under a week.

And then we kept going
Because once it’s yours, the wishlist stops being a wishlist. In the same two days we added the things we’d always wanted and could never have asked a vendor for: clients can pay several invoices in one bank transfer; there’s a proper API — just a feature, but one that fits how we work, since teammates deep in a Claude Code session can log their time without switching windows; permissions are enforced in the database itself, so billing rates and costs are structurally invisible to anyone not cleared to see them; and every Monday the app writes each of us an AI analysis of where the week’s hours and dollars actually went.




