Call it the Sardinian-effect.

No doubt about it. I've discovered the best way to get a feel for Sardinia. And that is to live with a Sardinian. Especially one that speaks English. And that's exactly what I'm doing. My true love, of course, is a Sardinian. Maybe that qualifies me as the luckiest man in the world. Certainly, I'm right up there with the contenders. I don't know if my true love is a typical Sardinian. She probably isn't typical anything. She's unique. Charming. Delightful. Well-educated. With a top-notch brain. And good-looking. What more can a guy ask for? I don't really want to say too much about her. Just generalities. Because I want to respect her privacy. But she's a lifelong Sardinian. Born and raised in Sardinia. And with a Sardinian surname. I'm not sure if she considers Sardinia to be a full-fledged paradise. Maybe too modest to say so. But I know paradise when I see it. And this is paradise. And she helps make it such. In so many ways. We've known each other for 40 months. And we've traveled together. To all sorts of places. Different parts of Italy. Germany. Scotland. Iceland. And in the USA, too. I've called myself a free-thinker, a liberal and a romantic idealist. But more than anything, a Sardinian has helped make me a true romantic idealist. Call it the Sardinian-effect. --Jim Broede