I don’t know how many doors the Crapshack will have — probably not many, though I worry a little that depending on how much material we gather, we could be headed the way of the Winchester House (except, you know, about a thousand times smaller). And this wouldn’t be the worst way to head, and to get back to it, the point is: our doors are going to look hot-to-the-touch. In a good way.

These are all door accessories, in a sense. Knobs, bolts, handles, you know. I didn’t ask Paula why she had so many spare door parts, and I half expected to arrive at her apartment and find all her entryways naked out of some weird obsessive irrational aversion to door handles. But her doors looked perfectly clothed, so I don’t know, and it’s not my place to question. Because they’re ALL OURS NOW.

This is the first of what promises to be several featured items from the Pile of Paula’s Crap we inherited (with no short order of profound gratidude*) last week. Paula is brilliant in ways I’d disclose to you if that didn’t seem weird and effusive, given that she’s a former work colleague. But she also does wicked things with paper that you can see here. Among other things, she makes very clever cards, which you can buy from her and stuff with money and send to me.

Distance traveled: 300 miles of the scenic route

How it got here: well, I admit a sort of thrill at pulling the battered and bumpy truck in front of Paula’s doormen, loading up the cab country-transplant style, then really revving it hard as I pulled out.

(* That was a typo but a pretty good one, and has to stay.)