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Also, as a late-night (or early morning) film review, I watched Shaolin Soccer this evening for a bit of fluff. It's got choices on the DVD menu. I watched the "original Chinese" version with subtitles because I'm a subtitle sort of person -- even for kung-fu soccer sports comedy films, not that this is, or should be, a very populous genre of film. Understand that I enjoy kung fu movies with wire work. I thought Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was a hoot. I think Jackie Chan is one hell of a physical comedian. Finally, I'm okay with buying into impossible sports techniques. I like the flaming tennis balls (in Prince of Tennis) so the concept of flaming soccer balls isn't much of a stretch for me. I am the kind of person likely to think that a movie about kung-fu soccer techniques, particularly if it's a comedy, is a good idea.

That said, this is a nicely done kung-fu sports comedy. Should you have any interest in any of the genres being abused (sports movies, kung-fu movies), you'll probably get a kick out of it. The comedy is pretty good, some of it really quite nicely executed. There were several amusing visual riffs that I enjoyed. In the version I watched, the subtitles weren't horrible, though they could have been slightly more carefully proofread. Perhaps the 'US theater release' subtitles are more in line with my language expectations.

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Today with Thyme we did sheets of corrugated roofing tin. These were a big hit in the "scare the horse" department. She did go over them after relatively little hassle, though, which was quite nice. We also worked with an empty feed sack, which was also a chart-topper in the 'scare the horse' department. For all that she's scared, though, she settles down so much more quickly than Nick (who takes about an hour) or Meatly (still buggers over a white plastic grocery bag for an hour and a half EVERY TIME I BRING IT OUT) that it's really rewarding to do the sacking-out stuff. I was pleased with today's effort, but she still runs over me. It's annoying as hell. She's big and solid and doesn't really seem to CARE that I'm whapping at her when she's running me over. *sigh* It is not my job to move. It is her job to move around me... but I don't seem to be convincing her of this. Perhaps with more practice. I don't want to lose my temper, but dang, it's frustrating to whap at the horse and be ignored. It makes me feel about as effectual as a gnat against an elephant.

It started raining as the morning wore on. Chris had brought Cass (second grade) and Boo over before the rain started, so they were about. I was standing in the woodshed, looking at the rain and waiting for Liss to put Boo down for a nap so that we could run into the feed store. Cass popped into the shed and started wiping her (rain-wet) hands on my clothing. This irritated me, particularly after she'd stuck her hands out under the rain to rewet them and repeated the process a couple of times. [Irritated, bored me is not a good thing.] I asked Cass if she thought my clothes belonged to her, that she could wipe her hands all over them. She said yes. I asked again. She said "Maybe not... except for the shoes." I asked her if she was SURE the shoes belonged to her. She said yes. I said I didn't think they would fit. She allowed as how she didn't care if they fit or not, they were her shoes. Right. I toed off my shoes, told her I was sorry for wearing her shoes, handed them to her, walked across the muddy yard in my sock feet, got in my car, and went home. (She ran after me yelling that I could use her shoes if I wanted. I pretended not to hear her.) I await with rather a lot of amusement the discovery of how this story turns out.

Notes for aspiring shoe-incident participants: These were not my good shoes. They were about worn out and I don't care if I ever get them back or not. So if you're going to do this, don't use your good shoes because the kid might throw them under the porch where they can get rained on and dog-chewed while denying all knowledge of the shoe incident... but this will not happen if she's smart. (In my experience, if you're on the receiving end of stuff like the shoe incident, the details will out no matter how far under the porch you toss the shoes. Best to just admit all the facts up front because it will only get worse if you attempt a coverup. This is a valuable lesson for people in every stage of life.) So. Don't use your good shoes. Also, be humane about it. Select a kid who belongs to people who know you pretty well, people who have a sense of humor and will not beat the kid over your strange behaviors. It is not the child's fault you're an unusual adult.

Cass is going to have to go in the house and inform Liss that I'm gone because she told me my shoes belonged to her. You know, no matter how carefully she explains it, if she stays anywhere close to the truth, the incident is going to sound almost Dadaist. I wish I could be there to hear it.

Also, I should have mentioned last night during the movie review... I made real popcorn for the movie. I did not make hot-air popcorn or the nuke-oven bagged stuff. I made the popcorn of my childhood, pan/oil/kernels/lid and shaking. Let me tell you... if you're of a certain age and haven't done this lately, it's worth your time. You'll feel six years old again... the experience is rich in sensory goodness that you don't get with microwave popcorn in bags and if you're old enough to remember "real" popcorn, you will be swept back in time. Give it a whirl.