Stress? In San Pancho?

A nurse in a hospital recently was doing a survey ... you know, medical history, prescriptions, operations. Questions about activities, memory. And, stress?

"How do you handle stress?" she asked. And I couldn't answer right away.

"Stress in traveling to Boston the week before?" No, no stress. Everything went smoothly. I was just glad to get there for some surgery.

"Stress at home?"

In San Pancho? I couldn't think of any stress. No kidding. With plenty of time to do whatever I want ... reading, computering, swimming. Going to the beach. Seeing friends. Volunteering. Shopping.

No Boston prices. Plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables.

No hurry to get anywhere. No big city traffic. We laugh at the Mexican drivers, macho enough to pass you on the highway on a blind curve. We can't get mad...or stressed. It just happens.

The dog, the cats. Okay, so the semi-Siamese knows how to climb the wall and escape. We got her a collar and tag so people won't think she's a stray.

I don't have to clean, or do laundry, or iron, or vacuum. I don't have to wash dishes or load or unload the dishwasher. I don't even have to make the bed.

"No, no stress in San Pancho," I told the nurse. "So I don't have to deal with stress."

I don't think she believed me.

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