We bought our house seventeen years ago at an absolute auction, which is another story for another day.
What caught my attention immediately was the setting. Although the house is in town, it sits on a large, beautifully wooded lot at the end of a quiet street. One of the things I loved most was that it almost feels like you’re living in the country. I knew that would appeal to my husband.
The house itself had a lot going for it. It had a great flow between the living and dining areas, making it ideal for entertaining. The bedrooms, including the guest room, were all spacious, and since we still had a teenage daughter at home, it was perfect for our family.
The previous owners had built it as their forever home later in life, and he was an engineer, so the house was extremely well built.
The inside, however, was another story.
There was far too much carpet, popcorn ceilings everywhere, dark paneling, and an original kitchen that was separated from the great room by an unnecessary wall.
The First Round of Changes
We immediately tackled some of the things we felt had to go.
We tore out the carpet throughout the living areas and bathrooms (eww) and replaced it with engineered hardwood flooring and tile. We removed the popcorn ceilings, got rid of the dark paneling, and made a few minor updates to the bathrooms.
We also took down the wall between the kitchen and great room, which completely changed the feel of the space.
The kitchen, though, we mostly left alone.
It was perfectly livable, and I’m sure it was beautiful in its day. The cabinets were actually well made and included some nice features like pull-out storage. Over the years we made a few small improvements. We raised an awkward bar-height eating area to something closer to standard counter height and replaced a strange oversized island countertop with black granite that fit the space much better.
Our hope was that if we stayed in the house long enough, we would eventually remodel it.
Eventually turned into seventeen years.
One of the most irritating features—and I suppose everyone thought it was a wonderful idea in the 1980s—was the peninsula with upper cabinets hanging over the cooktop.
First of all, it blocked the view into the great room while cooking. Every time I was in the kitchen trying to talk to someone in the next room, I was talking to a wall of cabinets. It made the kitchen feel closed off and disconnected from the rest of the house.
It was also a surprisingly effective way to hit your head.
Then there was the built-in desk.
I never once sat there and worked. It was probably where the family phone lived back in the days of corded telephones. In our house, it became a catch-all for mail, notes, pens, receipts, school papers, and the general chaos of everyday life. Instead of being useful, it mostly became a clutter magnet.
And then there was the sliding glass door.
To be fair, it did provide a beautiful view of the backyard. I’ll give it that.
But I’ve never liked sliding doors, and since we already had French doors in the great room, it felt completely unnecessary. Beyond that, it had become a real problem. The way it was installed allowed water intrusion during heavy rains, which eventually caused damage around the frame and made the door increasingly difficult to open.
It had to go.
By this point, the kitchen wasn’t the only thing showing its age.
The engineered hardwood flooring we had installed years earlier was never quite right. It had too much orange in it, and the high-gloss finish showed every footprint, water spot, and scratch. With two dogs and real life happening every day, it wasn’t aging gracefully.
The original cabinets were beginning to show their age as well.
So the question became: Do we simply replace the cabinets and countertops and keep the same layout? Or do we finally build the kitchen we had been talking about for nearly two decades?
Why We Finally Decided to Remodel
What stopped us for so long was probably the same thing that stops a lot of people: money, disruption, and the fear of making expensive mistakes.
A major kitchen remodel isn’t a small project. It’s messy. It’s stressful. And it’s expensive.
But over the last few years, my husband’s health challenges have reminded us that there are things you keep putting off until “someday,” and then one day you realize someday isn’t guaranteed.
We wanted to enjoy this house while we could.
We wanted to enjoy it together.
So we finally committed to making it into the kitchen we envisioned.
Eight Weeks of Dust and Takeout
The kitchen came out at the end of March.
For eight weeks we cooked wherever we could find space. There were more meals eaten out than I’d like to admit. There was dust everywhere. We washed dishes in places that were never meant to be sinks. There were moments when I wondered if we’d lost our minds.
Like most remodels, there were decisions to make, delays to work around, and a few surprises along the way. All and all though, with careful planning and a good project manager, it wasn’t so bad.
Little by little, it started coming together.
The Kitchen We Always Wanted
The peninsula disappeared.
The view opened up.
The old desk was gone.
The sliding door was replaced.
The island I’d been imagining for years finally existed.
For the first time since we bought the house, the kitchen felt like it belonged here.
More importantly, it felt like it belonged to us.
The finished kitchen is brighter, more functional, and far better suited to the way we actually live. We cook often, entertain frequently, and spend a lot of time gathered around the island. The new layout finally supports all of that.
And every morning when I walk into it, I’m still grateful we decided to stop waiting.
What's Next
In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing all the details behind the remodel, including:
- The layout changes we made
- Cabinet and paint selections
- Why we chose a Wolf cooktop and double wall ovens
- Our flooring decision
- Lighting, hardware, and finishing touches
- Sources for many of the products used throughout the space
And, of course, a few things I learned. And additional decor I am finding to make it come together.