Claud du Moine is, first and foremost, a place to live. And like many places
where people live, the rhythm here is shaped by more than just people.
We are Bart and Greetje, together with our sons Louis and Léon. And with a dog,
two cats, two donkeys and six chickens.
Each has its own character, its own habits and its own place in the daily life
of the smallholding.
Bart & Greetje
We ended up here because we were looking for a different way of living.
Not because we knew exactly what that would look like, but because
we wanted to experience what happens when you become more closely connected
to the place where you live, work and spend your days.
Much of what we do today has taken shape along the way. We try things,
see what happens and adapt. Sometimes we know in advance where we want to go.
Sometimes we end up somewhere completely different.
That makes life here never entirely predictable. And, really,
that is a good thing.
Louis & Léon
Our sons have spent many of their holidays here over the years, and each
has developed his own relationship with the place. They are part of life
on the smallholding, but Claud du Moine is not their project. They are free
to find their own path, carrying with them everything this place has given them.
The animals are neither decoration nor part of some preconceived system.
They are simply here - and because of that, they naturally shape
the rhythm of the place.
Six of them · for the eggs
All-rounders. They get scraps from the vegetable garden, provide eggs,
fertilise the soil and bring life to the shade. Lawn mowers, insect eaters
and unexpected pets, each with a personality of their own.
They remind us every day that a closed loop begins with making use of what
is already there, rather than asking for what should be there.
The dog · Louis' companion
Always out walking, always alert. While others struggle to keep chickens
because of the fox, things remain remarkably peaceful here.
Gamin helps keep watch over the farm and is very much part of everyday life.
On winter nights, he lies by the fire; in summer, he follows the donkeys' shade
all the way to the orchard.
Two donkeys
They maintain the pastures, eat the grass and provide manure
that feeds the gardens. Without any fuss, they complete the cycle
of permaculture, day after day.
They ask for little and give a lot: their appetite keeps the grass short,
their manure keeps the soil rich, and their stubbornness keeps us humble.
Two cats · Léon's
Mousers and quiet presences in the barn. They belong to the farm
without making much fuss about it - two characters who watch over the house
in their own gentle way.
They come and go on their own terms. The house is theirs, the mice are their business,
and the rest is patience.
Anyone who spends time here soon notices that the boundary between
household and landscape is a thin one. The animals come inside, the people go outside,
and one person's work is often another's moment of rest.
We are trying to do more and more ourselves: growing, preserving and preparing food,
making and repairing things, and making as much use as possible of
what this place provides.
But we are not completely self-sufficient - and we don't need to be. It is not
independence as an end in itself that matters to us, but becoming more conscious
of what we have and, step by step, needing less from outside.
The smallholding is not a project we will ever finish. It is a household we tend to,
season after season. Sometimes that calls for action, sometimes for patience.
And most of the time, for simply paying attention.
Perhaps that is the simplest way to describe how we are trying to live here.
Une ferme. Un atelier. Une bibliothèque.