Getting my little torch has meant that I have been staying up nights soldering things, sometimes successfully, sometimes with an almost Benny Hill-esque comedy routine without the zany bazooka music-- there I am trying to roll little balls of solder and balls of sterling onto something and watching with a mixture of sadness and resigned patience -- kinda like this:
as they roll off in a combination of singles or pairs that boggles the mind and would, on TV, spark the laugh track.
Eventually, I either give up ( only to stubbornly try again later ), melt the silver and create a firescale mess of epic proportions or, most seldomly used of all: apply logic to the situation.
You see, I was the child playing piano at five who would sit down and place my fingers upon the keys, lacking formal knowledge, and expect that the chords would emerge perfect and dulcet as Brahms. It took five years of lessons and practicing dilligently to get to Brahms. Perhaps I should expect the same for my work with the torch: practice, practice, practice :)
In the meantime I am having a ball, and the recession, which has meant a lot of quiet in my leather shop WHICH would on any other occasion drive me batty, means that I get to solder and bend and hammer and read books long into the night.
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