Reason to stay for a long while.

Going for my daily walks. In Sardinia. They're always special.  I like it. When I'm stopped by someone. And asked. In Italian. For directions. Maybe that means I look like an Italian. But I can't fake it. They soon learn. That I'm a foreigner.  The other night. I passed two middle-aged women. Toting baggage. Heading home, I assumed. From a trip. Already a mile from the train station.  I turned around. Asked them. In English. If I could help them carry their stuff.  I gave a lifting motion. To demonstrate what I meant. They got the message. And thanked me. But no. They were already near home. Hope I left a good impression. As a helpful and gentlemanly Americano. Every day, I walk down via Gramsci, the town's main drag. Now lined with white-tented booths. Hawking merchandise. Including crafts. Much of it with Christmas motifs. Expensive German-made vacuum cleaners included. My amore mio is in the market for a new vacuum cleaner. She has an old Hoover. Which needs an overhaul. And I'm thinking about buying her a new one. For Christmas. But these fancy German ones cost about 800 euros. Equivalent to Cadillac cars. I'm Mr. Cheapo. I checked it out. I can get an easy-to-use upright vacuum for less than 100 euros. That's good enough. In America, I can go to Wal-Mart and buy a neat vacuum for $60. I told that to the three Italian salesmen. One of which spoke decent English. He became my captive audience.  For a few minutes. I was the salesman. Tried to sell them on the merits of going cheap. They also learned a lot about Minnesota. And the charm of living in a climate of blustery snow and cold. They know, too, that I'm appreciative of Sardinia. For it's balmy winter weather.  And for delightful natives. Next, I ambled down to the fresh produce booth. Bought a kilo of tomatoes and a kilo of mandarin oranges. All homegrown. Cost less than 3 Euros. I would have paid more in America.  Really, the cost of living here ain't bad.  Another fine reason to stay for a long while.  --Jim Broede