No animal protein, no regrets

Surviving a necessary trip to town today --- freezing rain, wind, a sewer project that has engulfed Northwest Portland --- Mom and I returned home with a sense of relief. Mom's macular degeneration is on hold and she doesn't have to go back to the specialists for six months. We have a new tiny spider web crack on the windshield of the van, thanks to a gust flinging ice from a tree into a corner on the passenger side. We made it home, just as the ice pellets started piling up on the stairs.
While Mom was having her eyes dilated and delved into with all-seeing electronic instruments, I cruised the aisles at Trader Joe's just off 23rd, scoring many of my favorites, including low-sodium soy sauce, dried mushrooms, wild rice pilaf mix, dried figs, crackers and a package of heirloom cherry tomatoes. The latter I rinsed and sat out in a bowl, like grapes, as I made our simple repast, being much too tired for anything too complicated. I steamed a whole head of cauliflower and made a low-fat cheese sauce with fat free half and half, evaporated milk, smoked paprika, two kinds of low-fat cheddar, parmesan, onion powder, white wine and a little cornstarch. "Dessert" was a corner of a giant hunk of baked squash, donated to Mom at church last Sunday by my former neighbor, Mary Lee, grown from seeds I gave her nearly a decade ago.
It wasn't until we finished dinner that I realized that our meal was totally vegetarian, ridiculously healthy and actually delicious. I have been one of those people who thinks a protein product from a formerly living animal is necessary at nearly every meal, or I have been slacking and something is lacking.
Perhaps I should relax a little and enjoy our simple life. My doctor would agree.