If you told my younger self, growing up in the sunny suburbs of San Diego, that I’d one day be living on 56 acres in Whitefield, Maine, waiting for a phone call from a man named Jacob who doesn’t use a cell phone, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. But then again, maybe I would have.
I have always been—admittedly—a little obsessed with the Amish.
In California, they were a world away. On family road trips, my sisters and I would light up whenever we spotted a buggy or a farm stand. I used to fantasize about making friends with them, swapping sourdough and baked goods, and living that quiet, intentional life. My obsession was fueled by a childhood love for the movie Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Remember that barn-raising scene? The burly woodsmen in their best picnic outfits, the townspeople gathering, the structure going up in a single day of song, dance, and merriment (right before the inevitable brawl, of course).
I loved the idea of a community coming together to build something from the ground up. And this August, we’re getting our very own version.
The Reality of “Slow” Communication
While my fantasy involved picnic outfits and synchronized dancing, the reality of hiring an Amish crew has been a lesson in extreme patience.
Joe and I officially bought this property from his parents in February 2021, and we were married right here in the woods that June. We’ve always been “do-it-ourselves” people, but when we saw the labor quotes from traditional contractors, we knew we needed a different path. That path led us to the local Amish community—and a communication style that feels very “high school” in the best way possible.
To get our quote, I had to:
- Drop off plans with a local roofing contractor and wait for “Jacob” to call.
- Meet by flashlight at 5:00 PM on a pitch-black Friday to review blueprints.
- Relay messages through NC Hunt (the local lumber yard) like I was passing notes in class: “If he says this, can you respond with this and tell him to call me?”
- Write a physical letter and have it hand-delivered to his house when a deadline was approaching.
It took five months of waiting for unknown numbers to call, and three meetings before we finally got our answer.
The August “Barn Raising”
Today, we had our final meeting. We sat with Jacob, reviewed the attic trusses and decking. Over the next week or so we will drop off our 10% deposit.
In August, Jacob and two other men will arrive on-site. They told us they can have our 2,400 sq. ft. forever home closed in and framed in just one month. It’s the barn-raising dream I’ve had since I was a little girl, finally manifesting on our own soil.
The Vision
Caption: The future of Thimble Creek Farm. A home built for slow mornings and big dreams.
The “Right Now”
Caption: It doesn’t look like much yet, but this is where the magic happens.
Built to Last
Our goal has always been to be moved in within three years of starting our plans. If all goes well, we’ll be moved in by next fall—just in time for our oldest son to start Kindergarten.
This isn’t just a house; it’s a collection of our hard work. Joe is already planning to hand-build every single door for the house using wood sawn right here on the property, just like he built our event farm tables.
It’s taken five months of waiting to secure a builder and it’s been nearly two years since we started designing our blueprints, but for a home built with this much heart, it was worth every second.