Let’s go home.
Faron Lofton • August 4, 2025
So here’s the story.
About ten years ago, Kristi and I looked at each other and said, “Let’s go home.” Not just back to Austin—but back to the Hill Country. Austin’s where we met, graduated, got married, and started building a life. Then work took us to Houston.
Now, no offense to H-Town, but let’s just say it wasn’t where we planned to plant roots. Still, you go where the job takes you. That’s part of the deal. Houston was very good to us. Many memories and dear friends too.
Fast-forward a couple of kids, a few gray hairs, and one empty nest later—we found ourselves in Horseshoe Bay. And something about this place just clicked. The people, our church, the rhythm of it all. A tad bit different than Houston I must say.
Funny thing is, we never set out to be homebuilders. That wasn’t the plan. But turns out, God had a blueprint of His own.
And now, here we are—ten years, countless custom homes, and one unforgettable journey later.
Here’s to the next ten years.
“It’s one thing to build a house. It’s another to build two—put them in the spotlight—and try not to sweat through your shirt when someone asks what grout color you used.” “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” — Socrates We didn’t know exactly what to expect from our first Parade of Homes experience—but we did know we wanted our homes to be Parade Worthy. What better way to invite critique than to welcome 800 people through the front door and hear their thoughts in real time? Hmmm. The year we entered our first Parade, we didn’t just enter one house—we entered two. Sixty miles apart. At the same time. And just for kicks, one of them was our personal home. What could go wrong, right? We focused on what could go right. We were members of a winery conveniently located between the two homes. It quickly became our halfway pit stop, impromptu meeting spot, and occasional therapy session. (A good glass of wine can do wonders… but I digress.) The home sixty miles away? We built it in 22 weeks. Not because anyone demanded it—but because I gave my word to a friend and a developer, and I wasn’t about to break it. We pushed hard and got it done. No shortcuts. No excuses. Just head down, boots on, get to work. It was on this project that I learned what chiggers were. Ask me how I know… Parade of Homes is kind of like entering your kid in a talent show and praying they don’t trip on the way to the mic. You prep like crazy, stress over every detail, then hold your breath. That year, we learned we weren’t just builders—we were designers, hosts, logistics coordinators, and at times, on-call counselors. Every inch got judged. Every detail got questioned. And honestly, it made us better. Kristi, being the wise one, placed me in the other home during the showings—not our personal home—because she knew I’d probably try to sell it on the spot. She wasn’t wrong. That’s what builders do. But she held her ground, and she never complained once. We walked away with awards for both homes. Not because things went perfectly—but because we stayed with it. We showed up. We honored the details—and the deadlines. We learned to respect the entire process—not just the framing and finish-out. It starts on day one—the moment you’re standing in the dirt imagining what could be. That Parade sharpened our ability to plan and execute under pressure. It also taught us that you can move fast if your systems are strong and your standards stay high. But maybe the biggest lesson? You can’t do it alone. A solid team of vendors and craftsmen is what brings the vision to life. They’re the unsung heroes. We couldn’t have done it without them. That first Parade didn’t just showcase our homes. It showed us where we needed to grow. It revealed the gaps. It tested our grit. Would we do it again? Maybe. But only with smarter systems, a good playlist, and a winery within reach.
“It’s one thing to build a house. It’s another to build two—put them in the spotlight—and try not to sweat through your shirt when someone asks what grout color you used.” “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” — Socrates We didn’t know exactly what to expect from our first Parade of Homes experience—but we did know we wanted our homes to be Parade Worthy. What better way to invite critique than to welcome 800 people through the front door and hear their thoughts in real time? Hmmm. The year we entered our first Parade, we didn’t just enter one house—we entered two. Sixty miles apart. At the same time. And just for kicks, one of them was our personal home. What could go wrong, right? We focused on what could go right. We were members of a winery conveniently located between the two homes. It quickly became our halfway pit stop, impromptu meeting spot, and occasional therapy session. (A good glass of wine can do wonders… but I digress.) The home sixty miles away? We built it in 22 weeks. Not because anyone demanded it—but because I gave my word to a friend and a developer, and I wasn’t about to break it. We pushed hard and got it done. No shortcuts. No excuses. Just head down, boots on, get to work. It was on this project that I learned what chiggers were. Ask me how I know… Parade of Homes is kind of like entering your kid in a talent show and praying they don’t trip on the way to the mic. You prep like crazy, stress over every detail, then hold your breath. That year, we learned we weren’t just builders—we were designers, hosts, logistics coordinators, and at times, on-call counselors. Every inch got judged. Every detail got questioned. And honestly, it made us better. Kristi, being the wise one, placed me in the other home during the showings—not our personal home—because she knew I’d probably try to sell it on the spot. She wasn’t wrong. That’s what builders do. But she held her ground, and she never complained once. We walked away with awards for both homes. Not because things went perfectly—but because we stayed with it. We showed up. We honored the details—and the deadlines. We learned to respect the entire process—not just the framing and finish-out. It starts on day one—the moment you’re standing in the dirt imagining what could be. That Parade sharpened our ability to plan and execute under pressure. It also taught us that you can move fast if your systems are strong and your standards stay high. But maybe the biggest lesson? You can’t do it alone. A solid team of vendors and craftsmen is what brings the vision to life. They’re the unsung heroes. We couldn’t have done it without them. That first Parade didn’t just showcase our homes. It showed us where we needed to grow. It revealed the gaps. It tested our grit. Would we do it again? Maybe. But only with smarter systems, a good playlist, and a winery within reach.
“You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.” – James Clear, Atomic Habits The Challenge There comes a point in business where everything outgrows the duct tape holding it together. We’d gone from juggling a few homes… to juggling all the homes. More clients. More vendors. More questions. And a whole lot more chances to screw up. The work was solid. The people were capable. But the coordination? That’s where we wobbled. We cared deeply—but we hadn’t built the structure to carry that level of care. The Moment of Truth I remember walking a jobsite—house looked great. Clean lines. Solid craftsmanship. But the homeowner? Not smiling. Not confident. Just standing there with that look… like they were still in the dark. That’s when it hit me: If your client feels uncertain and in the dark, the job’s not going nearly as well as you think it is. Building a home is emotional. And sometimes, the emotions you evoke aren’t the ones you intended. We aim for joy. We work toward peace. And we do everything we can to stay away from stress and anxiety. ⸻ The Solution So we tightened the bolts. Not to replace the personal touch—but to support it. We started showing up with a plan: • Regular meetings • Clear updates • To-dos that actually got done It wasn’t flashy. No one threw a parade because we built a better spreadsheet. But it worked. Jobs ran smoother. The team felt lighter. Clients could finally breathe. ⸻ The Truth About Building Building a great home isn’t just about wood and stone—it’s about trust. It’s giving people confidence even when their dream house still looks like a pile of lumber. We’ll never be perfect—but we’ll settle for excellent. Excellence is the aim. All while keeping real relationships at the center—with clients, vendors, and trades. Because at the end of the day, systems don’t build homes. People do.
