How to inflict crochet on innocent bystanders

Most people start crocheting with one ambitious goal: terrorizing friends and family through the medium of yarn.

There's lots of ways to do this. Maybe you've loaded your friends up with hundreds of crochet dishcloths. Or maybe you crocheted tiny replicas of your bewildered family.

But a couple of years ago, I unexpectedly found one of the best possible ways to accomplish this noble goal.

Let me show you the way.

Mandala Blanket

Skill level	Beginner on a rampage
Yarn used	Loops and Threads Soft and Shiny
Yarn weight	Worsted (4)
Blanket Weight	11.2* pounds, the same weight as a small cat
Hook size	5mm

*I genuinely weighed it. It nearly broke both of my arms and the bathroom scale**

**kidding, but Jesus Christ it weighs a ton.

TLDR: Visually stunning, structurally unsound.

Two years ago, as my partner’s birthday approached, I asked if she would like a crochet blanket. She very kindly said no thank you.

Joke's on her, because I had already been working on her birthday blanket for about a month.

On her birthday, I proudly presented this Mandala-inspired monstrosity.

I struck out with the best of intentions: I followed a pattern.

Eventually, it became clear that the pattern was actually much smaller than what I wanted. It ended at row 16 when my “blanket” was the size of a large doily.

At this point, you may be wondering: did she accidentally follow a doily pattern?

Unclear, but definitely possible.

Hindsight is 20/20

I had come too far to turn back, so I decided to improvise.

In theory, this blanket is an eight row repeat, but I played pretty fast and loose with the definition of repeat. Every time things got a bit boring, I took the show on the road and changed it up.

The “pattern" has lots of chain stitches, and the yarn has a lovely drape as it works up, which would be a great feature in something other than a large blanket. As the blanket grew, so did its tremendous bulk.

By row 60, its weight was straining the chains to their absolute limit.

By row 90, I had to hire a small construction crew to hoist it out of my bag.

Boulders were levelled as I dragged it outside.

Children cried when they saw it approach.

Sometimes, I thought about giving up. There was a small voice that kept saying things like:

"Didn't she specifically say she didn't want a blanket?"

"You know you can buy gifts at a store?"

Laid flat (ish, it doesn’t completely flatten) on the floor, it’s about 3 feet in diameter, but held up in the air, it’s nearly double due to the weight. It’s hard to measure precisely because I would need a crane to hold it any higher.

The good news? No one else can make the pattern because I made most of it up as I went along.

The bad news? My girlfriend is now required to treasure this behemouth forever as a symbol of our love.

She does this by hiding it in our closet, where it proudly takes up an entire shelf no matter how many times we fold it, and occasionally lugging it outside as the world’s most ungainly picnic blanket.

Have you made something that got away from you? Tell me in the comments