In which we reintroduce an old friend to an addictive substance:

Horse Spit.

"Normal people" think it's disgusting.

And perhaps it is: greenish, wetish, warmish, and usually slopped down the front of a jacket, back of a shirt, or (in some instances) through the helmet vents and into the roots of the hair.

But "Horse People" (i.e. "non-normal people") can be exposed to minute quantities of horse spit, and are immediately transported into euphoric raptures. When the drool dries, the euphoria fades a bit...and the only way to hit the high again is to put the shirt, jacket, or hair within spitting range again.

(NOTE: some people have reported relief from taking deep breaths inside the cab of the truck that has been stacked up with wet saddle blankets)

Duana has been away from horses for 6 years!

She and her (now) husband took lessons at our old barn before jetting off to Tuscany for their horseback-riding honeymoon.

I'm sure the honeymoon was awesome (Tuscany! on horseback!) but they haven't really returned to the horse scene in all that time.

Until today.

Duana was pretty sure she'd forgotten everything. And hey, she did try to put Hana's halter on upside-down at first.

But they say it's like riding a bike, and it is.

(Assuming that your bike smells warm and grassy, and keeps mugging your pockets for carrots). Yep. She pretty much grinned that grin all afternoon.Go ahead, girlie. The first ride is free.

Hana made sure to deposit some extra-strong saliva on Du's jacket.

That should be just enough to trigger a nice case of withdrawal in a day or two...when Du's muscles start to recover and the horse spit starts to dry.

Heh heh heh.