High on a Mountain Top

We live, we love, and we laugh a lot
One of those little tiny specs of building is my home. I cannot seem to make it out through the 7 a.m. fog.

I live in a small town, in a small world.

Last night, I crossed the Yoshinogawa and went up a side of the mountain that I have always been curious about.
After about four hours of eating and drinking, in a house on top of that mountain, Ashely and I asked the cute young Japanese girls what they do when they make their way down from their weekday home in Iya Valley, to the slightly bigger town of Ikeda.

It was not a surprise when they told us that they sometimes go to Bar G. They continued to tell us that one time they saw two blonde girls sitting next to each other at Bar G. And that night they got free peach drinks thanks to those girls. See, two men had offered to buy those blonde girls drinks and the bartender was confused and gave those drinks to the Japanese girls from Iya and not the the blonde girls. In the end, the Japanese girls and the blonde girls all got free drinks. Ashely and I raised our hands in excitement as we explained that we are those blonde girls (I have still not managed to meet a Japanese person that understands the concept of redheads).

In this small world we all live in, Ashley and I and the other set of girls all found humor in this story of coincidences.

And that night I found myself in a big mountain top slumber party with those girls and one of their stuffed animals.