We don’t make mistakes. We just have happy accidents.

Bob Ross

Once upon a time, there was a lady. A lady who had many squirrels. She loved to crochet and making art on her computer. Sometimes it seemed like she favored one over the other, but the reality was that she worked on both a little bit at a time, alternating tasks. This lady had a pretty short attention span. Plus, she was much slower than the average bear when it came to crocheting. One of her biggest obstacles with crochet was that she could not count stitches. She had a short attention span after all. She was constantly pulling her work apart due to being a few stitches apart. Stitch markers were helpful when it came to see where she needed to pull the work apart. She had trouble counting past ten. But patience is her virtue, and eventually, she reaches a finished project. When her happy accidents begin to increase she sets her work down sometimes for days, occasionally for years. Then she switches to something else. When she starts a new project, she uses scrap yarn before getting into the good stash.

Yes, I am the lady behind the story. And this is the continuing saga of the commissioned beanie. I had a mini-disaster the other day. Wanting to test the durability of the beanies and some other items, I made the mistake of washing my first two beanies with some purses. The straps got all tangled up in everything else and it tore up the Caron beanie. Somehow, lint got into my washing machine and everything is covered in impossibly stubborn grey fuzz. Lesson learned here – get a mesh bag for the crochet purses that have straps and check your washer for foreign items. I am just thankful that all of the buttons stayed fastened.

So I find myself at square one with my commissioned beanies. My client is a patient man and I warned him that it could be a while before I could finish the project from the start. I’m not going to wash the beanies this time. I know now that the Herrshners Worsted 8 would hold up, the Caron would have too if it hadn’t been wound up to tight around the straps. So you’ve got to ask yourself, is this what Bob Ross meant, or was he just wearing rose-colored glasses?