My wife and I are building a house in the middle of nowhere.

By the time you read this, we are either starting to move in or I am in jail for assaulting the building inspector. Either way, I will be in new surroundings, out of the rent house that made the P.O.S. apartment on Highland Road that was my home for five years look like a palace.

Our new house is a 1,200-square-foot log cabin in the middle of nowhere. And when I say nowhere, I mean there isn’t a tree in a 2-mile radius, there is more sand than I know what to do with, and I can see the town 15 miles away.

The mountains, however, are a different story. The line of sight from there extends over 100 miles. It’s like sitting on the levee by the State Capitol and seeing Slidell.

With that being said, we are learning that, although you can get away with a lot of stuff with neighbors half a mile away, they can still see you trying to bury that body in the backyard.

But at least they help with the shoveling.

I don’t think the tap will ever run lukewarm water. It has two flavors: hot and 33 degrees. And all the sediment in the water you can handle.

Due to the fact that it gets to -40 degrees in the winter here, we invested in radiant-heat flooring. You folks would laugh at the fact that we wired the floor with what amounts to toaster heating coils in the hopes of not freezing, but we are considering it a luxury. We finally got it to work, and we have been sleeping on the floor, because anywhere else in the house is still freezing.

And speaking of flooring, I just want to let those people on the DIY Network know that the biggest, fattest part of my rear is ready for their perky lips to kiss. Never did I see Amy Matthews endure the pain and suffering that we have in building our house. Not once did the door go in perfectly, the tile stay level, or even the countertop grout stay where it was supposed to.

There is supposed to be truth in advertising, and they have fallen short in teaching me the correct way to backbutter tile, or even how to keep my composure as the tile saw froze for the third time today. At least my stepdad has informed me that the sod goes in green side up. 

But even with the chilling temps, temperamental subcontractors, anal inspectors, and the ever-present reality that valley time here ticks by exponentially slower as the day goes on, I think we have built a pretty nice house.

You can see what our house looks like by buying our house model kit at the local toy store. Just look for the dark wood logs and evergreen roof color. Build to your heart’s delight, and you can have a cabin, too.