Not being television sports enthusiasts, some years we go to the movies on Superbowl Sunday. It's a really great day to see a movie, because the theatre is empty. That's what we planned to do yesterday, after we knew that the weather was going to keep us from traveling to Samsonville on Saturday. (Seems like an awful lot of S-word alliteration.) The plan didn't work out, so after getting much-needed cleaning out of the way, instead of going to see The King's Speech, or joining the majority of the country in watching television all day, I started to read Mark Twain's autobiography. I bought it for myself at Christmas. I've been excited to read it, but it is as thick as a dictionary, and the type is very, very small - so I knew starting it would take focus. It's great - especially once I finished all the front matter (a lot) and got to Twain himself. I've read the earlier versions so I expect some of it will be duplicative (not that I mind), but there is new material - such anticipation! Now the challenge will be resisting reading it constantly, and ignoring myriad other demands.