Another Christmas in Portland (well, Vancouver, Washington, actually . . . but it’s just across the river). I think I’ve spent every Christmas here in the Portland area since I was born, except for two of them — my first Christmas, when I was a month and a half old, I probably spent in Utah (or maybe Boise; I’ll have to ask). And when I was 20 years old I spent Christmas in Florida, during my tenure as a Mormon missionary. Most missionaries miss two Christmases, but I asked if I could leave a month early to get ready for my return to college in January 1994, and ended up making it home in time for Thanksgiving, let alone Christmas.

It may be unbearably sappy to admit, but there’s not much I’d rather do than hang out with my family. Holiday reunions don’t come nearly often enough . . .