“Hello. Oh, it’s for you, dear.”

Christmas, for me, started early in the month, on some weekend when I watched Girlfriend Cult perform Christmas songs. It was my stage job to watch Margot Fey. This was when it started to feel like Christmas to me.

So, like anyone else on holiday, I began drinking eggnog every day from my moose tumbler.

I didn’t need anything for Christmas and failed in my task to share gift ideas, but I got some great presents. Tracksmith running gloves, a Tracksmith shirt, a desktop lamp, and a novel that I’ll read on my return flight. Oh, and eleven hours of sleep Christmas night, which is a modern day record.

I got in a Christmas run on Boxer day down on Town Lake.

Ellie strolled Margot while Brit and I ran a few miles.

Margot was tired because she’d been up at Aunt Nancy’s house since 3 am.

We walked along South Congress after our run and stumbled upon a Luddite movement among the hipsters.

While we were on the east end of the lake, my buddy Rob and his wife Sue were strolling through Barton Springs. They were on their way from Durango to South Texas.

We took Chad out for his birthday to Dos Salsas, but I’m pretty sure we made him pay for his dinner. Happy birthday, Chad.

The cousins spent quality time together.

And siblings got to catch up on what they’ve been doing the last 60 years.

With weather-induced flight delays, our Christmas time in Austin was too short, but we got to see family and that’s what Christmas is to me.