Last year The Welder was invited to deliver a summer residential arts weekend near Broadway (not Manhattan) and on the first weekend of August it finally arrived. So with a fresh pair of trousers and some trepidation, he headed down to the "Northern Gateway to the Cotswolds" to meet the hosts and 15 keen delegates.
Any concerns were soon put to rest as the weather was extraordinary, the delegates were armed and ready for action and the food and lodgings were fine.
Nude models posed, Sinister Welder barked instructions, sparks flew, smoke belched and the students duly turned shit into gold. An Alchemists wet dream.
Tired but tingling with artistic procreation, his creative catechumen collectively headed for refreshment in the bar, while the Welder himself took the more dark and dramatic pathway down hill into the beautiful village of Willersey to sup at the Bell Inn. On the way he imagined that this might indeed be a route trodden over a century earlier by none other than William Morris, musing no doubt on the finer points of the Art & Craft Movement.
All the Welder had to show for this journey however was a muddy foot, a sheen of sweat and crumpled Jeans. Imagine his surprise and delight therefore when he discovered, at the bottom of the hill, not only a pint of fine ale greeting his labours, but also a trouser press.