#deckvibes

Some evenings just pull you outside.

You know the ones — when the sky turns this layered peach and lavender, and even the neighbors seem quieter. It’s those evenings when I really feel it: the lack of a proper outdoor space. We step outside and stand awkwardly near the edge of the old concrete slab like we’re waiting for something to happen. There’s nowhere to sit. Nowhere to settle.

That’s been bugging me more lately.

So I did what I always do when my brain won’t let something go — I started digging. Not metaphorically at first (though who knows, we may get there), but online. I wanted to see how people around here — in neighborhoods like ours — were creating outdoor spaces that fit. That felt lived-in, loved, and easy.

I found this page from Corbin Restoration about their Ramsey County projects, and something clicked. Here’s the link if you’re curious too: https://www.corbinrestoration.com/service-areas/deck-builder-in-ramsey-county

Right away, the tone felt local. They weren’t talking about sprawling outdoor kitchens or showy luxury builds. They were talking about decks that invite you outside. Places to host friends or just sit quietly with a drink. Decks for Maplewood families, Mounds View couples, and everyone in between.

That felt like home.

The guide made me think about what we actually do outside — or what we’d like to. We don’t need a fancy dining space or built-in lighting system (yet). What we need is a solid platform. Somewhere clean, safe, and welcoming. A couple steps up from where we are now — literally and emotionally.

The Corbin team mentioned working on everything from new installations to structural repairs and custom expansions. And that struck me, because our existing space isn’t a total teardown. It just… never got finished. It was someone else’s idea of a patio, not ours. And it’s always felt temporary.

What I really want is continuity. A deck that feels like a natural extension of the house — like it belongs here. Like it’s been waiting for us to notice it.

The Ramsey County examples also reminded me how much shape matters. I’ve always pictured decks as big rectangles, but their work showed more creativity. Wraparound designs, small landings that turn into cozy seating corners, or even just a smarter layout that takes advantage of sunlight and breeze patterns.

That got me sketching. Again. This time with notes: “sunset-facing corner,” “space for a loveseat,” “planter boxes for herbs.” I’m not an architect, but I am someone who wants to come home from work and have a place to be — outside, but still home.

Reading the page made me realize how close we are. Not just logistically, but emotionally. Like the space we want is already here, just waiting to be pulled into form.

I haven’t made a call yet. But the link’s bookmarked. And I keep going back to it — like checking on seeds you planted, just to see if they’ve sprouted.

This summer might be the one. The summer we stop walking past that awkward concrete square and start stepping out into something that feels like ours.

A place to catch the sunset.