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Cousins and Reagans and Sales, oh my!

Item #1 in today's dispatch: my cousin sent out a news release to the family - about his first date at college. (In his particular family, there's a running joke that all the aunts have banded together to marry off the nieces and nephews; this release was named a "CALL Report" after the name of the band, CALL, which was derived from the first initials of the four aunts. Fortunately these are only his aunts, not mine, since they are really serious!) (Okay, long parenthetical...) Apparently he took a friend of his out to a banquet, where he won some awards. However, I don't know if it really counts as a date: "It was mutually understood that (my cousin and the girl) went together just for an enjoyable evening because of unfortunate religious incompatibility." So is it or is it not a date? Does it just count as a fun outing?

Item #2: no, not the Reagan from the RI. This Reagan is an adopted son of the late President, who also hosts a radio show and writes opinion pieces and books. My sister wrote to him, care of some organization with a New York address, to ask for his autograph. (About eighteen days ago, I think she said.) Today, we received a small envelope containing the index card she requested he sign, with his signature on it - and with a post office mark from Santa Clarita, CA! Now, why did it go to New York but come back from California?

Item #3: there's a garage sale down the street, so Dad and I visited, bought a phone (me) and a camera (Dad), and chatted with the new neighbor. (She was holding an after-moving sale.... go figure.) My new phone, white, has a built-in alarm clock, which workings I confirmed, and I can actually type while resting it between my chin and my shoulder! (I have heretofore been unable to accomplish said task with our home phone beside the computer.) So now I am prepared to answer a phone while on campus at college.

I used to think that the first garage sale was the harbinger of summer. But yesterday it was snowing. Now I don't know whether summer is trying to pass up spring in this annual race of the seasons, or if the garage sale rule is an old wives' tale.


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