Swee Pea and Me

This is my favorite neighbor kitty. She appeared one day a few months ago hiding under our deck. She was just a few months old. She was terrified of me. I tried to feed her and she stuck around for a while. One day she disappeared and I didn't see her for several months. Then one night I heard blood curdling screams. The big bruiser kitty who lives down the street had chased her up a tree and was attacking her. I had never seen a cat fight in a tree. I was amazed that they could go at it like that and still hang on. I finally separated them, and they both ran away.

Ever since then, Swee Pea has appeared at my doorstep every time I step outside. I thought she might be homeless, but she doesn't act like she's starving. My cat food just isn't good enough for her. So I guess she has a home. She seems to know when I'm feeling down, because she'll appear out of nowhere and begin nibbling my toes. Too bad kitties don't need sweaters. I could get inspired.

My mother does need a sweater. Will she get one? My mother is convinced that I will never finish her sweater. Her fears are quite reasonable. Every other sweater I have started for my mother has ended in disaster. The first one, which was a lovely tank knitted in her sorority colors (pink and green), failed because I ran out of yarn and I couldn't get more to match. The next was what I thought was a pretty bias design. I was making it up as I went along and using very fine yarn. I didn't realize how boring it looked until I was well in. I tried to stick it out; but no, my mom ended up with another scarf.

This time is going to be different. I am committed. If I can knit for friends, I must be able to do this. I think my standards are too high. Instead of just finishing a project I no longer like, I just give up. I cannot do that again. My mother doesn't need anymore hats or scarves or gloves, and she doesn't wear shawls. She will have her birthday sweater.
When, I don't know.