For the Week starting: 2.17.2005

“(You) thorny hedgehogs, newts, and blindworms”
Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream [II.ii.10] (I couldn’t resist, the quote reminded me of spectacularly unsuccessful baits I’ve been using lately.)

Aries: I was in a record store the other evening, looking for a cheap (used) copy of a certain CD. While I was there, I observed a clearly Latina (Hispanic) young lady. Now, this was in Austin, and this is a slightly different place. The olive complexion, the deep and beautiful brown eyes, voluptuous figure, obviously of local heritage. But her attire was that which didn’t say, so much as scream, Rock-a-Billy. Four-inch cuffs, jean jacket, work shirt, and a carefully pleated bandana folded over in a rear pocket. Hairstyle was something in between, but the ponytail style further emphasized the Country style. Anyplace else, and this would be a weird sight. Here? Just a minor blip on the screen. I can’t animate my face well enough to raise a single eyebrow. If I could, I would’ve. Perfect expression for what passed in front of me that evening. That single raised eyebrow? That the expression you’re going to run into, and use, if you can, when you’re confronted with certain irregularities in the world. Or just irregularities in the Aries world.

Taurus: I was dealing with a work-related issue, one of those thorny problems even itinerant journeyman astrology writers get to deal with from time to time. It wasn’t a sticky problem, just a chart with a lot of action, all at once. I wasn’t sure how to address the issues, either. It was all about employment, career material. I was easing my way around the problem, looking for a good way to describe the energy and I got sidetracked, looking at the Taurus set of charts for this coming week. Same deal. None of this is direct, see, none of this lands in the Taurus quadrant of the sky, but there’s a gentle lift, a nice nudge, almost a subconscious-push, energy that keeps whispering “work” into the Taurus ear. A few extra minutes, and I’ll bet that you come up with a system, a way, process, even a method for dealing with your sticky, work-oriented problem. Might not be where you’re looking for it, and it might not actually be something that you’re looking for, but I’ll bet that it comes up.

Gemini: I was ambling along the shoreline here, and I had a fishing pole in hand. I ran into a neighbor and her daughter. With them, they had — what looked like to me — a pet bunny rabbit in a plastic ball or cage. As is my custom, I inquired as the daughter’s birthday. Darling little Gemini. “We’re out taking Mr. Scott for a walk.” Further investigation revealed that Mr. Scott was a she, and she was a guinea pig, not a rabbit. The little Gemini girl was just all kinds of curious, full of questions about fish, and as much as I wanted to, I didn’t suggest that I use Mr. Scott for bait. He was a little large for that pole, but I’m sure I could’ve rigged something for carp or catfish with him. The little Gemini proceeded, in true Gemini fashion to talk to me, ask questions, offer advice and climb a tree, all at the same time. I now know she’s a Gemini. I wasn’t offended, bothered or disturbed, although, I did edit some of my language to make it more suitable for 6-year old. In true Gemini fashion, you’re going to encounter a youngster, or someone acting like a youngster, and I’m suggesting that you be a little more willing do a “live edit” on your usual patter as you go along. No need to offend some of those other folks right now, the non-Gemini people are not always as understanding.

Cancer: One of three items is — apparently — blocking your forward motion. It’s not bad, it’s just that you’re feeling — again – a little stuck. If it’s not Mars, then it’s Saturn or Jupiter. Each one of these obstacles has a secret key to unlocking its energy. The secret key is — for this week — is the put one foot front in front of the other. Keep pushing in a forward direction. The deal is, and I was doing a reading for a little Cancer girl who likes to run long distance, her deal is that her knees were starting to give out. Running? Sure, too much stress. But walking? Like putting one foot in front of another? That’s the way to make it through this morass of a week. The planets are conspiring to make the going seem tough. However, especially with Mars and that Saturn/Jupiter angle, the trick is to keep moving. Maybe slow it down, since everything seems to go slower, but keep pushing onward through the fog.

Leo: Which one is better? Rock? Country? Western? While my eclectic tastes tend to encompass a large number of genres, I got onto a philosophical discussion about the various merits of two of the main genres, rock versus country. Which one is better? But there’s a delicate distinction that emerged as I discussed this rift in music. More of the rock music is about what love can be, almost as if it’s written in anticipation of some event that’s coming up. Flip that over, and more of the country music seems to be written about love that’s gone astray, what has been before. One’s about heartbreak whereas the other is about heart that will get broken later. Which one is better? All generalizations are false. Can’t just say that all of a particular genre is about one topic. But there is a trend here, and while I love my rock music, I’m also partial to the country music, especially the local variations, which are, as a sub-genre, more Western than Country. Still, heartbreak versus hope, which music do you want to listen to this week? I’m suggesting that you lean towards the rock version, as I see more hope rather than heartbreak, headed into the Leo chart.

Virgo: Old Mr. Sun has entered the relationship arena of the Virgo chart. What’s that mean? I kept toying with “stadium rock” as a back beat, but oddly enough, it sounded hollow and empty, like, I didn’t have the right acoustic temperament for such a mix. Thee was something missing, not quite enough volume? Maybe not the right bass line? I got the distinct impression, as I was looking at the Virgo chart, there was certain lack of rhythm. That’s what was missing, despite the little sound machine I was running in the back of my head. “Stadium rock” doesn’t really evoke what we’re looking at, or what we’re all feeling with Virgo soul. Nice idea, good label, but that’s not quite what we’re looking for. But there is a beat, a rhythm, a sense that something is pulsing along. Maybe it’s more like a sub-acoustic bass line, one of those noises you can’t quite hear, but you can certainly feel it as the floorboards vibrate. That’s why I picked the term “stadium rock” because I thought that it would have that same sense. Technology doesn’t always keep up, though — or maybe — what I think of, what I hear in my head, and what the rest of the world hears are two different tunes. In the Virgo world, you’re ready for the Arena Rock and Roll Experience in the relationship sector. Regrettably, whoever is putting together the real soundtrack? There might be a problem, and the delivery might be a little hollow.

Libra: I was remembering a recent exchange with my archetypical Libra figure: Pa Wetzel. It was a family gathering, and Sister asked that wonderful question (not that Libra’s are vain, but everyone loves to hear this), “Have you lost some weight?” His response? “No, it’s just that I’ve got accustomed to nap in the middle of the afternoon.” At some point in life, that’s what I look forward to, a nap in the middle of the afternoon. Which has nothing to do with the appearance of having lost a little weight. Both are good. Both are important. Both weigh heavily on the Libra mind. So now that Jupiter is doing whatever it is that he’s doing, it’s a good time to make sure you don’t enjoy a similar exchange like Sister did. It’s about listening closely, and not transposing certain details.

Scorpio: My Scorpio self was feeling poorly the other morning. I stepped out into the cool morning air, a faint mist rising up from the lake’s surface, and I’d grabbed a fishing pole, just to take a few minutes to clear my mind by practicing tossing a lure in the lake. No big deal. It wasn’t a bait selected for this lake, in fact, I seriously doubted I was going to attract any attention, I just wanted to calm my Scorpio self down by doing something useful at the edge of the river. Flowing water, a gentle vista, cool February morning, chances are, there would be no fish. Didn’t matter much, as I wasn’t there for catching fish, I was there for the act of fishing. (Chrome Blue Rat-L-Trap). But look at the Scorpio chart, and watch what happens when Pisces gets into gear, and look what happened to me, and my Scorpio self: fish. Big fish. Not what I was expecting, and sort of caught us both by surprise. I’m not saying that you’re definitely going to catch fish, but I found the symbolism largely unavoidable: Pisces starts, I catch a fish, when I’m not supposed to, with bait that’s not supposed to work here. You can look forward to something you don’t expect, when you don’t expect it, with a lure that you didn’t think would work.

Sagittarius: Like all bleeding edge technology people, I’ve been on the ragged edge of the early-adopter for a long time. As such, I’ve been through, literally, dozens of telephone arrangements. I kept looking for something that closely approximated the “old style” of phone headset, one that I’ve only seen in pictures. I just thought, with a visible microphone, and a heavy earpiece, it would work rather well. Plus, when my neighbors stop by and I was one the phone, it wouldn’t look like I was just talking to myself, one of the recurrent problems with ear-buds and inline microphones. But this scope has little to do with phones and communications, as it has a lot more to do with getting pissed off at a phone call. Or, in my case, it was a client. I was well-paid for my time, but I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, it was the same pattern, repeated over. When I got off the phone, I really felt like throwing it at the wall. I was unfailingly polite on the phone, but I was incensed because I’d wasted an hour of my time, and the point, judging from my end of the conversation, just wasn’t getting across. I’d like to suggest that I don’t get personally involved with clients, but over a period of time, I do. I have an emotional investment, of sorts, in what happens. Throwing the phone, getting upset, outward (or inward) displays of anger aren’t always good. Our little Sagittarius selves are hitting just such a wall. I did throw the phone, a cheap, plastic ear-bud with a boom mic. Notice that I was careful. The now-mangled ear-piece is a new cat toy. And that “situation” I was so upset about? Turns out, I got a tip plus a bonus plus the client did heed my advice. See Sagittarius? It all works out the way it’s supposed to.

Capricorn: Neanderthals disappeared about, well, it was a long time ago. They had some tools, a few implements, but they never mastered certain items that are clearly called for. Duck Tape. A personal favorite. I got a little weird, at one point, as I would do a phone reading and post the tape off, I would seal each envelope with a piece of duck tape. Duct Tape, I know, but I prefer the vernacular for its name. It’s the special, down-home in a trailer park kind of touch. I’d like to think that it sets my work apart from other folks. As I was sealing up another reading, and affixing postage and duck tape, I realized that was the problem with the Neanderthals: no duck tape. Now, in the next couple of days, you’re going to find that every Capricorn is required to have some duck tape, real, or metaphorical. There’s a project, an idea, something you’ve been working on, or some goal you’ve been working towards, and you need to stick to it. A little tenacity will help. A little swatch of duck tape, in order to remind you that you need to stick to whatever it is, that wouldn’t hurt at all. Failure to heed this advice? Might wind up like a Neanderthal.

Aquarius: I was quietly minding my own business in a tidy little coffee space, not really a coffee shop, just a rundown shack that has excellent brewed beans, and I ran into a familiar face. I couldn’t place the rest of person, other than she looked familiar. But I’ve been in the people business for so long, I’ve had this happen a number of times. I looked up from the paper I was reading, and she engaged me in conversation, about the weather, then, in a rather pointed fashion, she asked if I’d been fishing lately. Still, that’s not quite enough information for me to draw any conclusion. We chatted briefly about using “glo-in-the-dark” worms on a winter night, for fishing, and then I went back to whatever it was I was reading. It wasn’t until long after I’d packed up and was ambling home in the cool winter night that I realized how I knew that particular person. Client, from a party some place, not a big deal. I could recall something about her chart, too, finally, when I placed the whole event in my own timeline. The point is, sometimes, it takes a little longer to recall a necessary fact, figure, or birthday, in order to place some action — or person — in your own Aquarius mind. Sometimes it takes a little longer, a few extra minutes in order to get everything ordered in your mind. This isn’t a problem, but in the coming few days, you’re going to want to allow just a little extra time and space so you can accommodate such situations, as they arise.

Pisces: Happy Birthday to that one Pisces with her birthday rapidly approaching. As I peered out my trailer’s tiny front window, the other morning, casting my gaze towards the lake, I noticed a pair of graceful swans who were feeding in the little cove, just downstream from Shady Acres. Now, my first, bleary-eyed response wasn’t one of beauty because one of the swans had his head stuck underwater, and all I could make out was a white blob floating in the tiny bend of the river. Early morning, looked like a large body, drifting. Perfect example of what Pisces should think about this week, burying your head underwater to get to some nice, tasty aquatic vegetation. I couldn’t help but think about another type of avian critter, allegedly known for burying their heads in the sand, when faced with certain obstacles. But instead of talking about a leggy ostrich, or a leggy Pisces, I was thinking more along the lines of that swan, with his head under the lake’s surface. While everyone else is running amok, worrying about the sky falling, or what has, or hasn’t worked out, instead of getting into a tizzy over such things, a little quiet resolve, and maybe, just maybe, duck your head under the water long enough to grab a decent meal. It’s not about hiding, it’s about avoiding.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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