Nenna, 22, transformed a run-down post-war house into her first home: “There will still be enough work for decades”

Two years ago, in October, Nenna Jokinen stood shivering in the overgrown yard of a post-war house in Huittinen. The dilapidated barn’s roof sagged in crooked lines, and the main house looked almost apologetic beneath its flaking green paint.

Inside, the main room still had remnants from the late 1940s alongside 1960s vinyl flooring and dark floral wallpaper from the 2000s. The previous occupant had left behind plenty of dirt and clutter.

Nevertheless, Nenna felt a surge of excitement: This is it! This is going to be great.

Now, a year and a half and hundreds of work hours later, the overgrown grass has been mowed, the hawthorn hedge trimmed, the old flowerbeds rescued, and drainage ditches dug. The peeling green paint on the exterior walls has been replaced with a soft pink. Nenna has done most of the work herself, with occasional help from her dad.

Of course, not everything is finished yet.

““There will still be enough work for decades,” Nenna says. “Next summer, I plan to repaint the roof and the fourth side of the house. I’ll also renovate the inside of the yard sauna. And if I have time left, I’ll start working on the rooms inside, one by one. After all, it’s 120 square meters (1292 sq ft) with five rooms.”

“The feeling of freedom from having my own home was intoxicating”

Even though the house and yard looked downright scary that October evening, Nenna, who studied homebuilding at a vocational school, recognized its potential. Her father, a pipefitter, and a construction professional friend confirmed her hunch: the house was structurally sound and hadn’t been ruined by shoddy renovations.

Buoyed by their input, Nenna offered 35,000 euros (approximately 40,400 dollars) for the house, which the seller accepted. She financed her first home with her savings and a loan co-signed by her parents.

“The bank clerk told me I wasn’t the first young person there to buy a place. Apparently, many young women are getting into fixing up single-family homes as their own projects. It’s doable here in Huittinen, but not really in bigger cities where prices are completely different,” Nenna says.

A week after signing the paperwork and tackling a thorough cleaning, she moved in with her cats, Mauno and Martta. Despite its rundown exterior, the house was livable.

“The feeling of freedom from having my own place was—and sometimes still is—almost intoxicating. This is mine, and I get to shape it any way I want,” Nenna recalls of her first days there.

“I know there’s no renovation without setbacks”

Then the real work began. In the living room, they discovered a well-preserved painted wooden floor beneath the vinyl.

“The very first thing I did was tear out the vinyl flooring because it was barely attached. I can’t understand why anyone would cover a wooden floor,” Nenna says.

Other surprises have also been pleasant. In this wood-heated house, she hasn’t had to shiver, and the electrical bill has stayed manageable. Now, along with the stoves, an air-source heat pump also provides warmth.

Still, not everything has gone as planned. Nenna initially pictured the massive renovation progressing much faster.

“I work on construction sites, so I know these things take time, but the slow pace still surprised me. When you’re renovating on top of a day job, it can drag out. One person can’t achieve as much as a whole team. The rising cost of materials has also slowed me down too, since I can only do what I can afford,” she says.

In hindsight, taking it slower has been beneficial, giving her time to think things through. For instance, Nenna is being very particular about her choice of wallpaper.

One less pleasant discovery was the sheer volume of junk. The old barn was crammed with stuff, as were the unheated attics in the main house. Items had been piling up in corners since the 1950s. Reflecting the thrifty mindset of Finland's post-war era, previous residents had saved everything from old butter tubs to glass jars.

Nenna has gradually whittled down that pile of belongings. Bags of plastic, metal, and glass have gone to recycling, though the cleanout is barely getting started. Amid the trash, she’s also stumbled upon some keepers, including old furniture and a lovely porcelain clock.

Nenna tackles the renovation on her own or with her dad. A friend with an excavator has helped with yard work.

“Last summer, my dad and I tackled the exterior siding. We replaced rotten boards, scraped away old paint, and got a fresh coat on. Some coworkers have promised to help next summer too. Maybe I’ll throw a big volunteer work party,” she says.

Vacations, weekends, and countless evenings have been spent working on the house. Often, the physical labor left Nenna so exhausted that she simply fell into bed and instantly drifted off to sleep.

“I’ve felt tired but happy. The dream of finishing the house has kept me going. And you don’t count the hours when you’re doing it for yourself.”

So far, Nenna has avoided any major setbacks.

“I know no renovation is free of problems. I’m mentally prepared for surprises—there’s no point in worrying in advance. And of course, it helps to have a little extra saved up for unpleasant curveballs.”

Before-and-after photos show flaking green paint replaced by a cheerful pink, plus snapshots of excavation work and new raised garden beds.

Nenna has chronicled her progress on Instagram (@arkea_puruboxissa) and shared updates in a Rintamamiestalo-group ('post-war house') on Facebook.

Responses have been mostly supportive, but she’s also gotten some negativity.

“Some people felt compelled to declare the house is moldy and that it’ll never become anything worth having—all of this anonymous criticism based on just a few pictures on social media. Sure, the comments stung, but I let them go in one ear and out the other,” Nenna says.

Nenna’s closest friends and family have been supportive from the start. Coworkers and friends eagerly ask for updates on the renovation.

While most of her friends rent apartments in multi-story buildings, a few—who also work in construction—have done exactly as she did and bought older houses to fix up.

“Even as a kid, I dreamed of having a detached house, a yard, and a sense of peace. I briefly lived in an apartment building after I left my childhood home, but it only strengthened that dream.”

“This renovation has given me some grit”

When renovating, Nenna wants to channel the 1950s. Those orange-yellow vinyl floors and 2000s wallpaper have to go. A gray 1950s kitchen unit awaits refurbishing in storage, and she plans to install it in place of the current 2000s cabinetry.

“I’ve looked at a ton of 1950s color charts. I want plenty of bright colors—yellow, orange, and olive green—because Finland already has more than enough gray and darkness.”

She’s assembled her furnishings on a tight budget from flea markets, plus some pieces from her parents and grandparents. She refurbishes her thrifted finds whenever she has time. Only the sofa, bed, and fridge are new.

Along with renovating, yard work, and house chores, Nenna spends time at the stables. Her partbred Welsh Cob, Chaila, needs daily care. She’s dreaming of building Chaila a stable on the property. The pasture is ready, and since horses are herd animals, she’d need another four-legged friend as well.

A year and a half of living in and renovating a detached house have taught her a great deal. Above all, she says she’s learned patience and how to find happiness in small wins.

“I’m happy about the work I’ve accomplished. At the end of the day, I can see how many boards got their coat of paint. It’s incredibly satisfying to see the direct results of your own hands.”

The house—and the entire undertaking—has also been a crash course in adulthood. Nenna has taken care of everything herself, from paperwork onward. She’s obtained permits, drawn up budgets, paid bills and mortgage installments, and made decisions she never even considered before. At first, the responsibility felt overwhelming, but with time, she’s come to appreciate her independence.

“This project has definitely given me some grit. After this experience, I won’t let anything dampen my faith in my dreams. Anything is possible,” Nenna says.

In these past 18 months, she’s also discovered her favorite spot: sitting at the kitchen table, looking out at the gravel driveway and fields stretching into the distance.

During unhurried weekend mornings, Nenna watches deer roam the fields outside or listens to the concert of migrating birds—whooper swans trumpeting and a hundred-strong crane flock calling. In those moments, everything feels just right.