Epistomium delenda est

So, you have tried to tin the pipe, and discovered that the silver-based solder does not, as the package would have it, "offer the same melting properties and flow characteristics" as lead-based solder. Well, this is America. You have no one to blame but yourself for believing what is written on a package. Although you might have a good court case, if you believe what the commercials for Ask Larry tell you. At this point, contemplating that unsightly blob of solder sitting listlessly on the top of the supposedly tinned pipe, you might want to remove some of the tiles from the wall and excavate a small hole around the pipe where it exits the wall. The pipe, from all indications so far, is going to get very hot, and copper being an excellent conductor, the solder joints of the elbow inside the wall will probably come loose before you can successfully solder the threaded fitting to the end of the pipe. You will want to be able to check the elbow when you are done with the soldering. Pulling tiles off the wall wasn't in the project description. you object. The bigger the mess, the easier the repair, as they say, and the tiles will want to cooperate in making the mess bigger. It's surprising how amenable seemingly remotely-connected parts of the bathroom will be to making the mess bigger. That toilet tissue dispenser? Not really in proximity to the pipe, but it will volunteer to add to the mess by falling off as you begin removing tiles. Once things understand what is going on, they will just throw themselves into the spirit of the destruction and fall at your feet. You get the idea. Go with the flow, which at moment, you are obstructing.

OK, you have made the mess as big as practicable for the moment. Don't worry, it will get even bigger before long, but you have done all that you can in that way right now. Go ahead, try to solder the threaded fitting to the pipe. It's on, then? Looked sort of dodgy as you were doing it, though. Solder didn't really flow back to the torch flame. Clumped up, fell off, or just sat there looking rather disinterested. After it's cool, time to put the shut-off valve on the fitting. A few inches of Teflon tape, and you are all set to thread that new valve on the fitting. Tighten it up with the wrench, and sit back on your heels to admire the work. Illusory as the feeling of accomplishment is, it is still good to take the moment. And it's over, to quote Oz in "Graduation Day, Part 2." Turn on the hot water outside and check for leaks. As if you need to check. You know there will be leaks. Being right isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Whatever that means. The solder joints are dripping impressively. You expected them to drip, but you didn't expect this kind of committed display. Time to start all over with the soldering.

Might as well just begin by removing the pipe from the elbow to make working on the fitting easier. Aren't you glad that you had the foresight to make that hole to expose the elbow? Applying heat to the joint, you notice how quickly the old solder melts. All right, we've beaten that subject to death. Let it go. Just dig out a roll of old leaden solder and be done with the whining. Look at it this way. You are honoring tradition. It's a fine thing you are doing. In some future age, they will be putting up a statue to you: The Last Man to Use Lead Solder. Pull the fitting off, wipe away the loose solder, use some emery cloth on the ends, tin the pipe with leaded solder, reassemble. Easy. The last 15 minutes, that is, not the previous six hours. Turn the hot water back on. No leaky solder joints. Good job.

You are all set. Knock off for the day. Tomorrow you can take down the sink, so that you can replace the faucet.