When we moved to the UK and bought our sweet countryside house, I imagined evenings spent in a picture-perfect kitchen—barefoot, stirring something delicious in an apron that made me look vaguely capable.
Reality? Dust, chaos, and the kids eating cheese off a toolkit for three weeks straight. But as any old house enthusiast will tell you, part of the joy lies in the transformation. Our British farmhouse kitchen renovation is ~90% done, and I’ll share some more below, but disclaimer: we did all of this before we moved in a few months ago, and while more has been completed since then, it’s not all finished yet because I can’t make up my mind on the final details, and I don’t want to rush the process.
~A heartfelt thank-you to our handyman, Dave, who stepped in and poured so much care into our kitchen renovation. Your skill and patience transformed a challenging space into a warm, welcoming hub for our family. You weren’t just meticulous with every detail; you were kind and patient with the curious questions of the kids, taking time to explain things and share a few stories as you worked. Your calm presence and generous spirit made this project feel like a collaboration, not a job, and we’re endlessly grateful for the laughter, respect, and warmth you brought to our home.~
In My Wide Georgian Paneling Era
I wanted walls that hummed with character—ones that looked like they’d silently witnessed a few centuries of tea drinkers before me. Enter: wide Georgian paneling. It took weeks to arrive after I’d ordered it but once it was up, the whole space seemed to settle into its own vintage rhythm. The soft shadows the panels cast in afternoon light make even washing up feel almost cinematic.
IKEA vs. The American Fridge
Then came the true test of cross-Atlantic logic: fitting IKEA cabinets around my American-sized fridge and freezer goals. Let’s just say metric meets imperial could’ve been a sitcom. Our dear friends from church came over one day and helped us with some house projects, and we lovingly begged them to help us assemble these IKEA cabinets for IKEA fridge/ freezer. (Highly recommend a Which? account for research on British appliances! It’s like the UK version of Consumer Reports.) Anyway, with some careful trimming (and mild swearing), our builder and my husband somehow coaxed those Swedish flatpacks into alignment. Add bespoke handles, and you’d never guess the whole ensemble almost required immigration paperwork.
(Will the IKEA cabinetry stay black forever? Almost certainly not.)
The Open Layout (and the Island of My Dreams)
This kitchen may have tested my patience and vocabulary, but it’s become something rare: a place that feels like it’s been here forever, just waiting for me to arrive.
Moving the kitchen into the former living room felt both terrifying and liberating, like cutting bangs after a breakup but with more masonry dust. The risk paid off.
At the room’s heart now sits my pride and joy: an antique French shop counter my husband found through a British dealer. It’s scuffed in all the right ways and practically oozes lavender and old coins. It’s the perfect island—characterful, practical, and far too heavy to move again.
Antique wood furniture makes the best kitchen islands because it comes pre-loaded with character, not just character chips. It wears its history like a chef’s apron—stains tell stories, dents add charm, and every scratch is a badge of countless family feasts. It ages gracefully, developing a patina that blends with modern appliances instead of clashing with them. Plus, you get built-in mystery drawers and a sense of provenance to offset any IKEA furniture —I feel like our kitchen becomes a gallery, not just a workspace with this piece in the middle.
Facebook Marketplace: £50 of Fireplace Glory
One evening, while avoiding paint color decisions, I stumbled upon a FB Marketplace listing titled simply “Old Mantelpiece, £50.” The photos were dark, blurry, and suspiciously potato-quality—but something about the curve of the molding whispered potential. When my husband picked it up, he told me he’d give it “50/50 whether or not we take it to the dump.” Five days later, it became the statement piece of the kitchen. Freshly cleaned, repainted, and adorned with a few candles and herbs, it now frames the heart of the room—a fireplace that may not work, but looks spectacular pretending.
Part 3 of this likely-four-part kitchen renovation series is coming soon, but in the meantime, the space is lived-in and loved—and life in this kitchen is surprisingly doable, even with a little dust.
If you’re dreaming of your own country life, can I just say: consider England’s countryside charm—there’s room for whimsy, history, and a cozy kitchen that just keeps inviting you to linger. Stay tuned for more on the renovation, where I will reveal more little quirks that make this kitchen truly ours.