Rain aside it was a glorious weekend and Jojo is now Mrs Fairfax. A very posh name for a wonderfully down to earth couple.
The Roseland Peninsula in Cornwall is described by the tourist blurb as a "lush delta of moorland, punctuated by ancient villages with welcoming pubs for the angler and ambler, or twitcher come to see the area's rich bird life." It is all that, a stunning place and the little B&B in which we were housed delightful, all that an English B&B should be: a flowery doily heaven with a dear old motherly type inflicting further helpings of a full English breakfast on one in the morning. I don't recall when last I ate so much food.
The wedding was held in the famous St Just church, rumoured to be the place where Joseph of Arimathaea brought Jesus' body. I asked Jojo later how they had managed to get such a sought after location for their wedding but she just winked and said through a friend of a friend and a cancellation.
So I gave away my little girl, my Jojo, once a feisty tomboy, now a beautiful woman angelic in white lace, to a tall mountain man whom I am certain will take good care of her.
I was glad Elsbeth was there because I felt immensely sad as well as joyous and welled up more than once during the weekend. She, like a good friend, knew when to speak and when to be silent.
The dreaded encounter with Fiona passed without a hitch and I think we even managed to salvage a cordial peace from our torn relationship. I think the occasion helped - it is difficult to be bitter in the face of young love, so full of innocence, hope and promise.
My list is very nearly done.
