FRIENDS OF TOPSMEAD STATE FOREST
Discover a hidden treasure in the Litchfield Hills of Connecticut
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In October of 1929, four years after the main house was completed, and two years after purchasing the Buell farm, Miss Edith purchased another 36 acres, in two pieces from George Buell. The smaller piece, about 4 acres, bordered Topsmead Farm along Jefferson Hill Road to the south, and filled in a gap between the farm and the property she acquired in 1926 that included Terryplace. The second parcel was about 32 acres, and this piece became the most southerly piece of land at Topsmead along the east side of Jefferson Hill Road South.
THE DUMP Every home in the day had a place where trash was burned or buried as there were no trucks that came by to take trash away like we have today. Near the very southern end of the Topsmead estate was an open field road which went eastward, almost to Buell Road and the border of Miss Edith’s property. The road took a sharp left for several hundred feet that led to a fairly steep slope, and this spot was used as the dump. On Mondays Dad or one of the men would collect the garbage and waste from the main house and farm and then cart it here to be “dumped” down the embankment. |
This was about the farthest distance from the rest of the property. After dumping the waste, the garbage pails were washed at the well at Terryplace, and then returned to the house.
THE BLUEBERRY LOTS Along the open field road on the way to the dump, to the left and right, several hundred feet along the east side of the road were hundreds of low growing blueberry bushes, only about a foot high. In season, these bushes produced an ample quantity of blueberries. Further to the east, several hundred feet away, going down a steep slope was an abundance of taller high bush blueberries. These bushes required a bit of effort to get to as the terrain was rougher. Late each spring, the ladies would pick the berries, and when they felt they had picked an adequate supply for the main house, they announced to the employees that they could pick whatever they wanted. We all enjoyed many blueberry pies and muffins thanks to these bushes. Sadly, today this area is covered with pine trees, and only the road to the dump area remains. >>read more |
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Caught My Eye and Got Me Wondering... November 2024
My October surprise was a massive pumpkin vine taking over the manure pile behind my barn. I had thrown last October's pumpkins out on the pile and thought no more of them until back in the early fall when a vine covered with yellow blossoms and wandering all over the manure pile caught my eye. Mother Nature then did her growing magic and, lo and behold, a magnificent crop of fifteen huge pumpkins, elegantly ribbed, green slowly turning orange, just in time for Halloween.
That got me wondering if manure pile pumpkins would make good pie for Thanksgiving. Hmmm...I sure had enough of them. But maybe they would have absorbed a tinge of horse manure flavoring. Not a pleasant thought. And maybe they were so big that they had turned tough and lost their flavor. Perhaps I could channel Miss Lucy Burrell, Miss Edith's lifelong friend who loved to bake, and get some culinary advice from her spirit. That got me wondering if Miss Edith grew pumpkins in Underhill's large vegetable/flower garden. Ah hah! There is a winter homework assignment for the FTSF house tour docents: go through the Topsmead archives looking for mention or photos of pumpkins and talk to Bob Orintas, the chauffeur's son, who surely would know if there were Halloween pumpkins at Topsmead. Walking about Topsmead one early November morning, something else caught my eye and got me wondering. Overnight, the gusty winds of the day before had completely cleaned the landscape of its fall leaves. You know, like when Guinevere and Arthur were talking in the movie Camelot, and she says, "And I suppose the Autumn leaves fall in neat little piles?" And Arthur replies, " Oh no my lady! They blow away completely! Wooosh! At night. Of course!" Without leaves cluttering the landscape, what caught my eye was the magnificent network of pine tree roots along the roads leading to the cottage. -read complete Musings essay- |
photo by Tom Holzel