We finished harvesting our garden last month. While we didn’t have any harvestable corn, we managed to harvest some butternut squash, a few pumpkins and some beans. While the experiment wasn’t as bountiful as I hoped it would have been, it was a great endeavor that I enjoyed nonetheless. Seeing the excitement on our children’s faces when we harvested beans and squash was worthwhile.
I’m looking forward to next year 🙂

It’s day 91 and we are starting to see some fruit from all the laboring.

While only a few stalks grew this year , it probably wasn’t enough to get some ears of corn to grow. Corn is a self pollinating plant and to get enough corn for consumption you need about 4 acres of corn. While I’ve seen some ears start to grow on some of our stalks, another culprit may prevent a yield of corn this year: rabbits have been spotted in our garden and have so far eaten all of our green beans and sweet peas (which were located in the elevated bed). Some of the more fruitful corn stalks have been bent over as if something were laying down in the center of the three sisters. Time will eventually show if any yield is possible this year.

Spanish black beans and pinto beans have been harvested from the garden this year. While it’s been a paltry amount , it’s enough to excite our children. We have found some more growing but we have taken the drying then pick approach.

Squash, as you can see from the photo, has completely taken over our garden.
We have a pumpkin growing near our fence line and some buds for pumpkins, butternut squash and spaghetti squash growing up as well. I’m happy to report that numerous honey bees have been pollinating all of our flowers this year as opposed to the overall paucity of last year.

I’m hoping that we will be able to harvest more next month, so please stay tuned!

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about my experiment. It’s not for lack of trying, it’s because I’ve been working in Alaska for the last 3 weeks working and trying to deco operate/catch up with my family. Our overall garden has blown up to the proportions of “little shop of horror proportions”. The Corn I already above knee high but is getting strangled out by the beans and the squash is just being…squash. A pretty lazy but delicious plant 🙂

More updates to come. A blog about my Alaskan adventures is to follow soon (when time finally allows)

I had buckled my daughter in her car seat and drove the short drive over to the Medcenter One Emergency Room as fast as I could.  I parked my car outside the bay doors where EMT ambulances park with the blessing of a security guard who was waiting at the front door.  I was trying to stay calm for my daughter’s sake, but nerves were beginning to get the better of me.  I texted her parents and mine when answering machines came on. 

As I waited in the waiting room three other familes were there: one with a 5 year old in a two casts up to her hips-one yellow, one pink- another family whose elderly mother had suffered a fall, and a father and his friend who were waiting on results of a cat scan due to his youngest son suffering a seizure at daycare. 

After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse and EMT finally came into the waiting room.  The EMT began talking about how our car insurance covered the cost of moving my wife to the hospital when I cut in, “FUCK THAT!! WHAT HAPPENED?? IS SHE CONCIOUS?? DID SHE HIT ANOTHER CAR??”

The nurse and EMT both blinked and looked at me and calmly replied, “no, her car rolled”

“Is she ok though??”

“yes she’s fine, their just patching her up now”

“Can I see her??”

The nurse looked down the hall as the EMT handed me a form to fill out stating that “his duties had been obligated and he had hereby released from blah blah blah” or some such.  By the time my John Hancock had been left on the page, she quickly waived to me and ushered me to the front door of the Emergency room where the doors open and I saw three people working on my wife who was laying in a bed. 

I felt a lump develop in my throat as I saw the condition that she was in: She had what looked like a black eye on her right eye…part of her left ear, a small triangular cut was missing, but a nurse/doctor was working on gluing it together…another doctor was putting water on her hair and was in the process of removing small chunks of glass from her hair with the aid of a small flashlight….she had some nasty cuts up and down her forearms on both arms…but she was alive and awake.

“Hi Honey” she said in a breaking voice

I think she saw the look on my face and was trying not to cry herself.  If Liana, our daughter could talk at that point, the expression on her face would have said, “Mommy??”.

The next few moments speaking with the doctors and nurses about what had happened is a blank, but the next thing I knew, A North Dakota State Highway Patrolman was standing in the doorway and talking to me.  He began to fill me in when I saw a gigantic needle being inserted into one of Val’s giant nasty scars on her left arm and I asked if we could take the conversation out into the hallway so I didn’t turn into a crying mess in the ER. 

He began to fill me in on the details out there: somewhere between the Luther’s home and Mandan along Highway I-94, one of the tires on her car had blown.  The scary thing about this is that the speed limit in North Dakota is 70 mph.  So when the tire blew, her first instinct was to overcompensate and steer the wheel in the other direction.  A short moment later the other tire blew and she ended up rolling the car onto its hood.  What followed next can only be described as providence: an off-duty sherrif’s deputy was behind her when the accident happened and he immediately helped.  A surgeon with the V.A. in Fargo (he was on his way there) was the next car that came along and he stabilized Val while the deputy called for help and waived down the EMT’s. 

“We checked for signs that she may have hit something, but from what we can tell at this point, we are ruling this as ‘Catastrophic Technical Failure’ ” he finally concluded.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means that their was an engineering failure in the brand of tires that she had on her car” he told me. 

I let that sink in for a moment while my daughter gave him the ‘googly eyes’ “. 

The Highway patrolman withdrew a deputy sticker and handed it to my daughter which she then inserted into her mouth and began sucking on it. 

That elicited a long laugh.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————

After all the stiches, poking, prodding and tests had been run, Val was released from the hospital and I took her home.  The doctors and nurses told me that while she had only a mild concussion that I need to watch for any nausea, dizziness or other symptoms of a concussion and to bring her in if she does. 

When we got home, my dad had called and we ran through everything that had been explained to me.  He asked me if she had anything that looked like “Racoon Eyes” or bruises behind her ears.  When I saw what looked like one, he told me to get her back to the ER to get checked out as she may have internal cranial bleeding.  When the nurse at the ER checked it out though, she showed me that the bruise was actually from the seat belt holder when Val’s head had hit it (it was in the shape of it). 

After calling my dad back and telling him and my mom that all was well, and Val’s parents all was well we finally had a chance to lay down and rest.  Val was healthy enough two weeks later to fly out with the rest of us to a family reunion in South Carolina and after about a month we finally had a response from our insurance agency that the car was a “total loss” and they cut a check for the worth of the car (post damage). 

What was unsettling to me was when I saw the car, the entire hood of the car was crushed and the worst area was where my daughter’s car seat would have been if she was in there. While its been 5 years since that day, there is not a time that goes by that when my wife goes out in her car- with or without our children – that I feel a sense of dread in my stomach.  I know that they will be well, but still that feeling comes even as I hear the garage door closing.  I always make sure that everything is right with her car down to the wiper blades she uses.  

The takeaway that I got from this entire situation is that you always treasure the time you have with those closest to you.  Take more time with them, hug them a little longer, check in with a “thinking of you” text…because tomorrow is never guaranteed.  

It was the end of a 12-day on archaeological project when I came home that day. It was only supposed to be a ten day project, but another project had popped up as I was driving home on day 10 so I had to make a two-day detour.

When I came home that day, I had dumped all my paperwork, Trimble and vehicle/safety logs and left, getting to start a four day hiatus.

I was greeted at our home by my beautiful wife and infant daughter. After adjusting to home and playing with my daughter, my wife looked at me and told me she was going to Katie Luther’s place in Mandan. Katie’s place was a haven for her to get away and get some genuine “girl time” which I had no problem with. She also got to get yarn and knit with like minded women in a beautiful part of Morton county.

“Do you want me to take Liana with me?” She asked.

I looked down at our daughter who was trying to “walk” along the edge
Of the couch. Hearing her name, she turned her head up and stared at me with these big doe eyes of hers. I was tired and exhausted, but my wife needed and deserved the time.
How could I say no to a sweet little face like that anyway?

“Don’t worry about” I told her giving her a kiss and a hug, “I’ll take care of her, you go and have some girl time. Enjoy yourself!”.

With that she stepped out the door and left.

—————————

I don’t remember what we did during that time together. I always enjoyed Time with my daughter and it almost always involved laughing and giggling. At around the 2 1/2 hour mark, nature began calling my name. My daughter was starting to crawl at this point so I scooped her up with a plush toy she had gotten from her uncle Todd and put her in view where I could see her. I walked back to the couch with her and saw that I had missed two
Phone calls in the space of a few short
Minutes.
Normally, I wouldn’t have redialed the phone number but that amount of calls within the short span of time…
Out of curiosity, i redialed the phone number.
The dial tone went for a short while when a woman answered on the other line:
“Hello?”
Pause. “Yes? Who is this?”
“My name is chandler Herson, you dialed my phone number?”
pause. “Is your wife Valerie?”
“yes, why do you ask?”
“She’s been in a car accident and they are taking her to Medcenter One”.
My heart leapt into my throat then stopped as it dropped into my stomach.
“What??” I managed to wheeze out,
“Is she ok??”. Panic and fear were beginning to set in.
“I don’t know, the paramedics took her a few moments ago”.
My heart, which had stopped beating about a second ago and was residing now in my stomach began to come back to life due to terror.
My mind began to race: “what kind of condition was she in? Why wasn’t she able to call me herself? Did she hit
Someone else?”
I thanked the woman for calling me and immediately grabbed my daughter and her car seat and – as calmly as I could – proceeded to my truck. One thing I learned as a father is that children can sense fear, anxiety and overall stress, so I was trying to stay calm. I strapped her in and then very quickly drove to Medcenter One.

———–End of Part 1———

No sooner had I written about the so called “black hole of mill run”
Then a construction crew was outside of it putting up a new business sign for “ContactUS communication”
And gutting out the inside for a partial piece of the building.
While this is still a long way from a grocery store replacing the old,
It’s a start.

Hello Dear Readers!!

Its been a LONG time since my last post and not due to lack of trying. 

One of the primary reasons that this has taken me so long to get back to is life in general: My wife and I welcomed a new baby boy to our family back in August and about one month later, I found myself looking for a new job since my contract with the Ohio Historical Society expired.  I just want to thank Sharon Dean, Debbi Huff, Brad Lepper, Bill Pickard and Linda Pansing for giving me the chance to live out my boyhood dream of working for the Ohio Historical Society and for taking a chance on me. 

About a month before my contract expired, I got a job working third shift at a Tim Horton’s shop where I was baking goods for the morning shift from 10 pm-6am.  I ended up getting another job with GFS Chemicals as a Repack associate where I help break down various organic, inorganic and flammable chemicals and acids for laboratory use and ensure QA/QC standards are to spec’s.  I worked here from 7am-330 pm.  I also opened an online eBay store called “City on a Hill Collectibles” where I sell collectibles, antiques and gifts.  So, for a full month my schedule was to wake up, shower, shave, go work from 7-330, eat dinner, spend some time with my kids, sleep, wake up, go to Tim Hortons and work from 10-6 and MAYBE catch a half hour of sleep.  My weekends during this time consisted of playing with my kids (when I was conscious), listing on my eBay store and trying to catch up on sleep.  I did this for about a month before I finally decided that I couldn’t do it anymore and ended up quitting at Tim Horton’s.  I can say without a doubt that I am not afraid of eating anything there after having baked it night after night (except for the steak meals, two words: MEAT LOG >:-(~

Anywho, what will come next?  Well, I have some book reviews in my que and those will be forthcoming.  I’m also going to start a series on surviving unemployment or not even having to go on it.  I’m also looking at trying to write some more on archaeology and some of the sites in Ohio that you may or many not know of.  So please stay tuned and know that only the BEST is yet to come!! 🙂

Recently I read an article about a 65-year old woman who bought a bible at a used bookstore only to find an essay that she had written herself at the age of 10 and 2,000 miles away in Lexington, KY. It got me wondering about the importance of the written word and how what we write today can affect us years later. In history and archaeology, these are especially important tools as they reveal the thoughts and ideas of an individual during the era in which they lived. In today’s technologically driven world, we have text messages, emails and social media blitzing us at every moment and I think we as a culture have forgotten the importance of writing a simple letter.

Which brings me to a story about the importance of letters. This story involves my big brother, Adam Herson. When we were young, my brother was a avid sports fan. He could tell you the statistics of any athlete and even call plays during live football games before they even happened. I was awe struck at his athletic brilliance and wondered how he knew so much about sports and the nueansence of offenses and defenses. 

In 1989, my brother wrote a letter to Joe Montana wishing him luck in Superbowl XXIV.  While the San Fransisco 49ers would crush the Denver Broncos in that game 55-10, Joe would not reply to my brothers letter.  But this wasn’t because Joe was stuck up or didn’t have the time: the letter was never sent. 

On April 18, 1995, Joe Montana would announce his retirement before a crowded stadium in San Fransisco.  Despite playing for the Kansas City Chiefs at this point, Joe went out in style.  I remember this day vividly because when I got home from school, I picked up the mail and noticed a manilla envelope from the Kansas City Chiefs addressed to my brother.  I didn’t really think anything of it at first, but when my brother got home, I told him that he had some mail.  He took the manilla envelope and went around a corner and opened it.  There was a deafening silence that followed that was broken only by an “Oh my God”. I rounded the corner and asked my brother what was in the envelope.  He showed me: It was an autographed picture of Joe Montana in his Kansas City Chiefs uniform. 

It turned out that my dad had saved the letter and found it in a bedroom drawer.  He mailed it to the Kansas City Chiefs for Joe Montana to read.  The timing was impecable and I wonder what Joe thought when he read a 6-year old letter from an avid fan right before his retirment.  My brother would frame the photo and keep it on his desk for years to come. 

I think back to that moment and how simple a written letter on a piece of paper can go.  I’m hoping that it doesn’t eventually become a totally lost art for future generations as the written word can hold so much power, especially for years to come.

Hello out there and welcome to my Blog. 

My name is Chandler S. Herson and I am currently working as a Collections Assistant in the Archaeology Division of the Ohio Historical Society.  I was born and raised in Central Ohio, a place that has always been near and dear to my heart.  

Most recently, I worked for 5 years on the Great Northern Plains in a six state region doing Cultural Resource Management for numerous clients in energy, transportation and infrastructure.  I returned back to home sweet home ohio to be closer to family and for our children to know their grandparents better. 

In this blog, I’ll be exploring subjects that are my passion (archaeology, history, GIS), while also doing small book reviews, commentary on some current events, maybe a short story or two about my time on the northern plains.  I’ll also be giving some small nuggets on thoughts of the day and current events that range from work, family, church and even some beloved sports teams that I follow.  I hope that you take this journey with me and that you enjoy it as much as I do. 

Sincerely,

Chandler S. Herson

“Jack of all trades, master of none”..(well, maybe one ;))