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Write a post about anything you’d like, but be sure to include this sentence somewhere in the final paragraph: “He tried to hit me with a forklift!”

Our small town Blandford is lucky in that our Main Street rests on route 23 which used to be “the” state highway and it is still considered to be such on the books, since that puts our Main road in the responsibility column of our state. I say that we are lucky because we don’t need to allocate funds for snow plowing or road repair, if we were to be financially responsible for the snow and the repairs, I think that we would wind up cut off from the rest of the state. Our meager tax dollars go to snow plowing the secondary roads and their road repairs and trust me, those aren’t pretty.

We have been experiencing a lot of road work on Main Street over the past two weeks and every morning starting at 7, we are greeted to the sounds of huge trucks backing up and dumping gravel off to the side and countless other loud noises, Jack really doesn’t like to be woken up in such a way and he lets them know it with his barking.

Jack especially doesn’t like the loud and slow moving trucks making their way up and down the road. He gets squittish and jumps away, he is easy-going, but being so little you can’t blame him for being scared of those big trucks, they are very loud for his little ears. I am sure that since he doesn’t know the proper nomenclature for trucks and other types of road equipment, if I were to tell him that those big trucks were called forklifts, the first thing that he would tell his Papa upon our return from walking around the streets of Blandford would be to say “He tried to hit me with a forklift!”