#corbinrestoration

This might sound weird, but I’ve been treating my deck like a hallway.

You know, just a pass-through. From kitchen to yard. From work mode to parent mode. From “inside the house” to “hurry, let’s get the dog out.” Never a place to pause. Never a place to stay.

And the more I think about it, the sadder that feels. Because it could be more.

Last week, after another rainy afternoon warped one of the old planks again, I decided to stop ignoring it. I pulled out my notebook — the one I use for doodles and to-do lists and home projects I’ve only half-finished — and started imagining something new.

That night, while Googling what kind of materials can survive Minnesota’s mood swings (you know the ones — snow one week, blazing sun the next), I stumbled across this Anoka County page from Corbin Restoration: https://www.corbinrestoration.com/service-areas/anoka-county

I liked the tone right away. It didn’t feel like some glossy catalog trying to upsell me on trendy features. It felt grounded. Real. Like, “Hey, we live here too. We know what weather can do to a deck.”

That was comforting — especially since my current one is basically a cautionary tale. Cracked wood. Rusty fasteners. Stained boards that no amount of scrubbing seems to revive. It’s functional, barely, but not inspiring.

The Anoka page talked about high-performance decking materials and cedar construction, which got me thinking. I’ve always liked the natural look of cedar — that soft golden color, that woodsy smell when it’s warm out. But I’ve also been burned (almost literally) by poor-quality wood that warped after one season. So the fact that they emphasize durability and style? Big plus.

What really stuck with me, though, was the idea of designing to match the lifestyle, not just the house.

We’re not hosting big parties every weekend. We’re not influencers with huge outdoor kitchens or fire pits the size of small volcanoes. We’re just… us. A couple of busy people with kids, who want a place to sit and breathe and maybe sneak a glass of wine once the chaos dies down.

And maybe that’s where a good deck comes in — not as a showpiece, but as a middle ground. Between indoors and outdoors. Between doing and resting. Between noise and quiet.

After reading through Corbin’s approach in Anoka County — from design to execution to honest materials — I found myself standing on my current deck the next morning, just looking around. Not rushing. Just imagining what it might feel like to stay here a little longer. To linger with a book. To hear the screen door swing open and not immediately start cleaning something.

Maybe it’s time to stop treating this space like a hallway.

Maybe it’s time to let it be a destination.