I had one of those killer lessons this afternoon, on a friend’s TB mare since Kip is still lame. It was one of those no-stirrups-sitting-trot lessons, and my fanny is sore. (That’s fanny in the British sense of the word, not fanny in the American sense of the word, btw. Let’s just say that you normally don’t sit on your fanny, nor would you pat a small child on hers without getting accused of being a paedophile. Yes, it’s that part.) Owowow. Kip was very jealous and kept calling to me, but at least he didn’t bite me as he did after my first lesson on Larkin.