I'm struggling halfway up a ladder in 1 million degrees of heat to lash the garland to the outside of the church door whilst trying to ignore the substance abusers on their nearby stamping ground and my sense of humour failure is approximately 3 seconds away. My deoderant is beginning to fail me and oh joy of joys, I have a sweat moustache.
For any of you who think we waft around playng with flowers all day long -ha! My hands look like the hands of the homeless.
But it was all worth it. Take a look.