I spent the day among friends enjoying good food, conversation, dogs and architecture. Yes, architecture. The party I attended was on Prickly Mountain in Warren, VT. It seems two architects fresh out of Yale settled there in the late 60s to build an unique community. I don't know all the details yet, but I want to learn more. I fell in love with the name "Prickly Mountain." I'm not sure the origins of it, but my friend Joan characterized the place as a bunch of architects all getting together and trying to outdo each other -- there seemed to me to be the potential for something prickly in all that competition. It seems like the perfect setting to a story, the words themselves tingle with possibility. And, today as the last days of summer blazed to a glorious finish, the mountain relinquished a bit of its prickliness as one of its crazy, unique home opened its doors to easygoing conversation, and the infectious warmth of friendship. Here, I felt right at home.