It happened during the Great Flood -- Kermit and I were down by the bridge taking pictures while watching the river rise and everything was dandy until we got back into the car. When he tried to shut the passenger door, ka-thud, it wouldn't shut. Try it again. Ka-thud. Well, just hang on to it until we get home.

Back at the ranch, we fiddled with it but it wouldn't shut. James was out working in his garage nearby so I asked him for help and he was able to get the door shut. I told Kermit to start crawling through from the driver's side and don't touch the door.

You can probably guess what happened next. We were up in the Third Street neighborhood taking more pictures and when we went back to the car, he had an automatic response and opened the door. I didn't want to ask James to shut the door again but when I'd go around a corner, it would fly open. I wired it shut and also noticed a hubcap was now missing.

Since we didn't have a line item in the budget for car repairs and the thing still ran and got me where I needed to go, we lived with it. When the wire didn't work so well and the cold air started blowing, I got out the best friend of single mothers -- duct tape. It wasn't pretty but it worked and I said we'd fix it when I got my tax refund.

When the tax refund came, we headed to the parts store for new hubcaps, windshield wipers, headlight bulbs, etc. then told James he could start working on that door.

It needed a new latching mechanism and I started calling junkyards. I finally found one but they said I had to buy the whole door to get it.

So for a one hour drive there and one hour drive back plus $215, Kermit and I got to tramp way, way, way back through this muddy, snaky, weedy junkyard and I got to take my pick between two red doors for my silver car. (It came to be that transferring the mechanism from the red door to the silver door didn't work and so it's a good thing I bought the shiny red door because that's what will end up on the car.)

It was the biggest junkyard I'd ever been in and crowded. Halfway through the hike, I started thinking about all the wildlife that could be living there ready to pounce on me for entering their territory. So I asked our "tour guide" if there were any junkyard dogs out there roaming around.

No, he said, there were no junkyard dogs there because this was not a junkyard. This was a recycling center. Oh. Then he proceeded to explain to us how to tell the difference between a junkyard and a recycling center.

At a recycling center, the cars are parked side by side like in a parking lot. In a junkyard, they're piled on top of each other. Oh.

By the time this appears in the paper, I'm hoping I'll be back behind the wheel of my little silver car, with a shiny red door that works.

If you think it looks tacky -- the duct tape was tackier.

And if you think it looks junky, remember I paid good money for this red door.

This is not junky. This is recycling.