EMILIE JOHNSON: Provence Summer

Summer...white dresses on girls who smell like sun. Sun sheets too. Pure luxury. Day after day summer blinked by and I was in a trance. Didn't take a moment to sit and write or reflect. Just soaked it in and took some pictures.

The beginning of September was ‘La Rentrée’ - the famous moment in France everyone references all summer…not just back to school, but back to life (in a country where everyone takes a proper, often full-month, break). Leading up to la rentrée the summer was full of guests with a stint in the USA.

House totally full…we even farmed Colette out at some point for a sleepover so her bed could be occupied. To the gills. We had a few famous members of the extended Joly family to stay - with their flair for story-telling and holding the spotlight around a table. Xavier’s Aunt Gaby came, belly full of laughter and stories from her wild house in the Alpes-de-Haute Provence above Nice. She lives feral…currently fighting off a family of boars who have taken a liking to her hilltop property. A mama boar and baby, dangerous stuff. Uncle Rémi, who came with courgettes from his garden, sautéed them perfectly with garlic, olive oil and pepper. I still have the sweetness in my mouth when I think of them. Xavier’s sister Marie and her family…endless art projects and handling nature, observing the sky, the moon, the stars with the girls. Outings around Provence and summer baths in the pool. Cooking, cooking, cooking - every meal enjoyed outside, long affairs. And good friends from New York and past lives. Such a treat to reunite with beloved people. Chris, my favorite travel companion and inimitable friend. Meredith, Jordan and little tow-headed Lars, finest friends from New York and beyond.

Marie and Louise

Pinecone mobile project with Aunt Marie

Outdoor painting on oversize canvases

Louise with a good book always in hand

Olives getting plump

Laurier in full bloom

Colette by the pool

Family poker with the ultimate bluffer: Mr. X

Cousin games

With Chris at a long, drawn-out Provence lunch in the shade

Jordan, enchanting all the children

Meredith, making me howl with laughter. Here, we were on a special tour of a near-by château and I had to contain it to a giggle-whisper laugh.

Lars-y boy, charm charm charm

Sister training

Taking a break

I’ve learned a lot about food in France, of course. Goes without saying. I always come back to the notion of “profiter.” The skill of, the ability to be, still and enjoy. Seems simple, but it is not. To sit properly with everyone involved and use all five senses to focus on what is there in front of you - together. And not start or finish out of synch. It is highly cultural. These small rituals - obvious things like never filling one’s own glass before everyone else is considered; ceremoniously composing plates and sitting to chat for just a bit longer before anyone picks up a fork or knife; locking eyes to the clang of a glass - and never crossing; and the famous Joly ‘banc’ - a congratulatory clapping ritual - everyone at the table knows the cadence and performs together to thank the chef or to congratulate a child on an accomplishment or to celebrate the host. All of this starts so early. At the girls' school cantine, the children are served and then they wait until every other child has been served to begin.

School! Marguerite has a big year - she has begun ‘Collège’ (middle school) - sixième. She is so tall, she fits the part. Doesn’t look like a primary school kid any longer. She is Paris chic, she can’t help herself. She got a lot of her dad, it keeps unfolding every weekend she is here with us. The time is unflagging. A terrifying and beautiful thing to witness.

This summer Marguerite attended a local circus school...you can guess the rest

Colette, in grande section à la maternelle, waltzed into her classroom and took control. She knew the kids; the teacher already knew her. No surprises there. She is a force of nature.

Romy began ‘real school!’ Petite section à la maternelle. She kept saying, “Do I get to go to Colette’s school?” Now we insist it is her school too. She proudly walked into her classroom and sat down where a piece of paper and some crayons were displayed. Began drawing, looked up at us and said goodbye. All around was carnage. Most three year olds were sobbing and begging their parents not to leave them. Her teacher came over and said that they would find Colette if Romy got sad during the day (Colette is famous at that little school). The charm of a small town.

Apparently, Colette protects Romy outside in the play area.(?!) Some kid walked up to Romy the first day and took a bunch of her hair in his hands and started pulling. Colette stomped over and grabbed his wrist and instructed “Laches!!!!” She imitated the face she was making when it happened for me later when she told me about it; it was really intense. Big Colette eyeballs. Romy nodded in grateful recognition as Colette told the tale.