Part 5 – The Parade That Paraded Us

Faron Lofton • August 14, 2025

“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.

Part 4 – The Stretch

By Faron Lofton • August 5, 2025
“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.

Part 3 – The Right People

By Faron Lofton • August 5, 2025
The first few years of Treo Signature Homes? It was just Kristi and me. No office. No team. No backup plan. Just a lot of faith, some stubborn optimism, and the willingness to figure it out as we went. I wore every hat in the business. Bookkeeper. Sales team. Trash picker-upper. And on some days… taco delivery driver. You could say I was the original Uber Eats—just with a measuring tape and a level. I didn’t do it because I had time. I did it because there wasn’t anybody else. And I didn’t mind. My dad always said, *“If you’re too proud to pick up trash, you’re not ready to lead anybody.”* That stuck with me. Still does. When we started building out here, we didn’t know a soul. No list of trades. No network. But God has a way of sending the right folks at the right time. We ended up surrounded by some of the most solid craftsmen I’ve ever worked with. They weren’t flashy. They were early risers. They showed up ready to work, ready to laugh, and ready to get it done right. I didn’t pretend to know everything about their trade—thankfully, they didn’t expect me to. They took the time to teach me. Show me the details. Help me understand *why* they did things the way they did. And in return, I made sure they knew what we were aiming for: A team that worked like one. All rowing in the same direction—or not rowing at all. We leaned on each other. We learned from each other. And we built some dang good homes. Not just because of the materials or the design… but because of the *people* behind the work. Our clients felt it. Our crew felt it. And truth be told—it made the job fun. Those early years set the tone. They shaped our values. They raised the bar. We didn’t have an official “team” back then, but Kristi and I had a crew we trusted—salt-of-the-earth, hard-working, gracious, funny, loving people we eventually came to call our Treo family. We could count on them. And that made all the difference.

Part 2 – The First One

By Faron Lofton • August 5, 2025
The first house we built out here wasn’t for a client. It was supposed to be ours. I’m a third-generation contractor. I grew up watching my dad build homes the right way. So yeah, I knew what I was signing up for. But the real lesson came when we saw how often people took shortcuts—not because they had to, but because they always had. That first home build showed us real quick: If we were going to do this home building business, it had to be with our own standards and expectations— not just what passed for “normal.” Around here, that means doing what you say, and saying what you do. It’s simple—but it’s not always common. The Bible talks about a good name being better than wealth. We’ve staked our business on that more times than I can count. And because we’ve built on that foundation, we’ve been lucky to work and live—alongside some incredible people here in the Bay. Folks who’ve challenged us, taught us, and helped shape what Treo has become. Those relationships have raised our standards. They’ve stretched our thinking. And over time, they helped define what we now call luxury. Not necessarily more expensive—just more intentional. More thoughtful. More true to what a home should be. We still drive by that first house sometimes. It reminds us where it all started. We thought we were building a house. Turns out, God was building us.