“We detest such vile base practices.”
Shakespeare’s The Two Gentlemen of Verona [IV.i.72]
Summer solstice, coming soon!
Aries: There’s a lot of start and stop action going on in your sign. I’m reminded of a video I saw, shot by a friend, of a scene that wasn’t too exciting, except, of course for the folks involved. The camera wasn’t steady, and there’s a point in the video when the viewfinder wasn’t aimed correctly, and the scene gets a great shot of the heavens. With the way the stars are kicking around, consider how you’re aiming the Aries viewfinder. I’d be a little more careful, too, about what you’re going to show everyone. Do we really want to see the ceiling of a trailer? Composition, plus the items that an Aries finds exciting? Got to be careful about what you want to show us. It’s just too bad that the “Life of Aries” can’t be run through a video editor to make life a little more even. Doesn’t mean that you can try a little editing along the way. Might help.
Taurus: Most folks celebrate Mars being in the Tropical Zodiac sign of Aries. Taurus ain’t a typical sign, though, I mean, other than being very Taurus-like. While other signs might be having a good time with this, I’m not so sure that your Taurus self is quite as pleased with Mr. Mars cooking along in Aries. Tough time for the lovely and sensual Earth sign, my favorite Fixed Earth Sign. It’s not bad, per se, but there’s a certain degree of frustration that’s rapidly approaching. Seems like no one is noticing your good deeds. That’s a problem. Not really a big problem, just a minor annoyance. Buddy of mine, and his name really is a “Bubba,” showed up at a happy hour with a new hat. Pretty cool hat, excellent logo, nice tag line, interesting stuff. However, no one noticed. I made note of the hat and the branding, plus the logo, and I was going to say something nice, but it was social event, and the conversation never veered towards that new hat. That’s an example of how we feel about Taurus, us non-Taurus folks. We’re meaning to get around the kind comment and observation of your new wardrobe, the kind deed you’ve done and how well you’ve been doing at work. Only, we don’t seem to get around to it.
Gemini: Fish I caught a few days ago? Around the old trailer park? That fish grew in size from 3 pounds to a record 9 pounds. It went from that big to THAT BIG. I struggled for minutes, finally, hours, trying to land that sucker. Funniest part, to me? None of the exaggeration was done by me. “Kramer, I heard you caught a nine pound bass!” Nope, more like 3 pounds. “I heard it was three feet long!” Nope, more like 18 inches…. See how news travels, unassisted, through certain groups of people? And see how that news changes, mutates and rapidly becomes the stuff of legends? It took less than a week, I’m estimating the news spread in about five days, and that’s what left of Gemini. Then, if you’ll just be quiet and peaceful like, you can hear all kinds of new material about something you’ve done lately. There will be some sort of event, something occurs, perhaps a personal best, and the stories mutate. Never let the truth stand in the way of a good tale. After the last few days of Gemini successfully conclude? Let someone else do the talking. Your Gemini reputation will grow by leaps and bounds, with no assistance from your Gemini self.
Cancer: I was “walking the dog” in the early summer evening, the Gemini sun was setting behind me. A couple of my neighbors were really walking dogs, and the neighbors stopped to chat with me. One of them is a Cancer. She allowed as how that one fish I caught (see Gemini), how it should be able to feed the whole trailer park. I am occasionally given credit for powers that I don’t have. I don’t think I can feed hundreds of people with just one little dink of a bass. Some folks do confuse me, though, and they think I can feed multitudes with just two fish. Sorry, but that’s not my trick. However, given where the planets are, folks are going to be expecting miracles out of the Cancer corner. I’m not saying that it can’t be done, but I’d be a little extra careful about your promises versus what you can actually deliver. Just because it’s been done before, that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to pull it off. Birthday season, for Cancer, starts later this week. Miracles are possible, but watch those expectations of others.
Leo: I’m pretty much rotten at being a salesman, unless the product is along the lines of “Keep Austin Weird,” which, according to more than one source, I’m certainly a poster child for that group. Cold calling is out for me. Can’t do that. Cold calling is not a typical Leo activity, either. However, a little cold calling, or some other similar sales technique is probably a good idea right about now. You’ve got something that demands your Leo attention. I’m all for it. Then, whatever this activity is that demands your attention? It’s going to require a degree of marketing to push your idea through. You’ve got what it takes, you’re doing well, but you might not get all the recognition that you deserve. Patience, my fine Leonine friend, it’s coming, it’s coming. It just ain’t here yet. Work on that marketing plan that leads to total world domination by The Leo: yourself.
Virgo: Social butterfly. It’s that simple. Grab the appointment book, the day-timer, the digital reminder, whatever it is that you use to keep track of the list of places you’re supposed to be, and make sure it’s all up to date. There are about 42 engagements this week. 7 days, 42 places to be, on my, what’s a Virgo to do? Scheduling is a fine art. I once worked with a medical assistant who was my assistant for a weekend. I kept my head down and did what I do best, which was reading charts. That little Virgo girl was busy with a marker, drawing lines and arrows all over the schedule with my two o’clock coming in 3:45 and the 3:45 moved to four, then bounced over to 3:30, and I don’t know how anyone human ever kept up with all the changes. Sometimes, there’s a super-human strength, and that’s the Virgo ability to handle a calling, a need. Now, this time? This isn’t about other peoples’ schedules, this isn’t about trying to keep a lazy astrologer on track. This is about your own social calendar. It’s busy. Make changes as need be, but I’m pretty sure you can squeeze it all in. Just takes a little manipulating. I know you can do. “I’m free Tuesday, 5-5:30 PM, that work for you?”
Libra: There’s always the one that got away. Most folks think I’d be referring to a fish when, in fact, I was thinking about a girlfriend. Due to time, business, geography, our stars never did align quite right. Close encounter, but not quite close enough. The one who got away. I was thinking about this because, in the Libra chart this week, there’s Mars, over yonder in Aries, fast approaching a trigger point with Libra. I can save you the pain, problems and general abuse that comes with berating yourself for the one who got away. It’s quite simple, really. As this trigger point with Mars approaches, stop and assess a situation, might not be looking back at long-lost loves, might be looking back at something else altogether. But whatever — whomever — it is, don’t allow this one to get away. “She broke the line off at the boat,” is the familiar excuse most of my fishing buddies use. Make sure you’ve got the best line available so it doesn’t happen to you.
Scorpio: I consider the banks of the Colorado River, in front of Shady Acres, my own, personal fish-testing laboratory. To that end, there’s a portion that has a rocky bottom, a portion that is choked with fallen limbs, and portion that is less water and more vegetation. Perfect grounds for testing equipment, techniques, and so on. It’s like having one of those big aquariums stocked with local fish. Perch, sunfish, the occasional rower, turtles, swans, ducks, geese, just about anything can be found there, in the “lab.” My lab. The trees hanging over the water’s edge? Yes, they are part of the personal laboratory, too. Some weeks ago, I hung an expensive topwater lure in the tree. Lab testing, you know? The other morning, I was flipping a heavier jig into the water, missed my release, and the lead weight sailed up into the branches, got caught. I gave the line a good yank, and out tumbled the jig — and that lost topwater. Now’s the tricky part, see, the topwater lure was floating along, gradually meandering downstream, and the pole I had in hand had a sinker, not a floater. However, about a half-dozen careful casts, and snared the lure. Didn’t catch any fish, but I did get a lure back. Deal is, when you’re working away with a sinker, you miss a release, and suddenly, something comes back to you, a floater. You might not catch what you set out to catch, but you do catch something, probably something you lost a few weeks ago. I just wish I could get this trick to work on truck keys, too.
Sagittarius: I was watching a fly fisherman the other morning. He was parked on a favorite section of the hike and bike trail. I was off to meet a client downtown, and I’d taken my customary meandering path along the river’s edge instead of sticking to surface streets. Makes for a more enjoyable cruise, if you ask me, but no one did. That fly-fishing guy had all the gear, a vest with a tuft of fabric for attaching flies, pockets crammed full of tackle, and two flies on the end of his line. We could both see the fish he was trying to attract, a decent sized bass in the shallow water by a boat dock. Problem was, the fish needed a wiggly thing in front of its face whereas the fly guy could only land tiny bug-shaped critters on top of the fish. Behind the fish, over the fish, to the starboard side, to the port side, but not under the fish. He finally decided to change bait, and that’s when I got impressed. He grabbed a line-cutter out of a pocket, and there was a little whirring noise. It was attached to a spool of cord so that, when he dropped the line-cutter, the spool snapped the tool back up against his vest. When I go fishing, I tend to cram a bunch of stuff into my pockets, but that’s about it. I don’t have any fancy, space-aged tools that snap back into place. Apparently, my tried and true method of fishing is better suited to the local waters because I think I’ve caught that one buck before. By the boat dock. All the tools, all the right gear? That doesn’t guarantee anything — sometimes it’s nothing more than luck: dumb, Sagittarius luck.
Capricorn: I was out cruising around, sandals, shirt in hand, and I picked up a hot dog at the convenience store. Road food, in my mind, on a hot afternoon in Texas. I used to always get a hotlink, but the hotlinks, that afternoon, they looked like they’d been rotating on the warmer for several days. Not my idea of healthy and nutritious foodstuffs. So I opted for the “all beef” brand hotdog. I squirted a bunch of cheap, yellow American mustard on the bun, plopped the juicy dog down on top, fished up the dollar, and ambled on my way, munching on a hot dog while traversing a parking lot, on my way to a favorite swimming hole (Barton Springs). About halfway through my meal, I took a big bite, and yellow mustard squirted out the other end. I’d grabbed a napkin so I was able to clean up the mess, more or less, and that would have to do until I reached the creek. So I’m a slob, or slovenly, or just careless with road food. Deal is, I was able to clean up my mess with ease and I was unconcerned that I might have flecks of yellow mustard dribbling all down my chest. My excellent Capricorn friends are not so lucky. Might not be road food, and it might not be mustard, but I’ll bet something spills over, or worse, comes squirting out the wrong end of the bun, and you’re stuck with a mess. Mars is in Aries, a cardinal sign. Jupiter is Libra, a cardinal sign. Next week, the Sun goes into Cancer, a cardinal sign. Be a little more careful about how much mustard you put on your hotdog. You might not have a creek to wash yourself. Or worse, you might be up that THAT creek, with no paddle.
Aquarius: A rich fantasy life is important. I’ve got a number of regular Aquarius clients, and I indulge that rich fantasy life as best I can. The other evening, while dining out, I noticed an Aquarius lass, and she seemed to be having one of those “departures from reality.” She was quietly conversing with a stuffed tiger. In fact, that one stuffed tiger looked a lot like a long-gone, sadly lamented fellow cartoon character. Therein was the humor. Eventually, I was able to ascertain that the young lady in question was an Aquarius, and yes, she was conversing with her imaginary friend because most of her real friends have proven to be flaky. Unreliable, empty promises, the usual list of complaints. But that one stuffed animal, he was dependable. Even more so, during our brief conversation, I was able to determine that the stuffed animal was a good judge of character; whereas that poor Aquarius lass wasn’t. As time marches forward, being a good judge of character is important to the Aquarius section of the sky. Find a reliable person — or even a stuffed animal — to help you make some of the decisions. You’ll find that the supposedly inanimate objects can be rather objective — even useful — when trying to decide.
Pisces: One my more loquacious fishing buddies and myself, we’d been fishing the other evening. The moon had set, so it was fairly dark down by the old boat dock. I wandered back to the trailer to get more bait, and one of my neighbors had wandered down to the shoreline. Bubba started talking to the neighbor, “So if I don’t catch any fish, I’m going to think that you’re basically full of it, and I’m not sure that any of this is worthwhile. Did you get that other bait for me?” My neighbor, a kindly lad of approximate proportions, plus he’s got a ponytail, just looked over at bubba, “Excuse me?” Bubba’s response? Probably not fit for a family publication, followed by, “I’m sorry, I thought you were Kramer.” It was dark, that was a couple of weeks ago, and the moon would provide a much better light these evenings. Less chance of a mistake. Or, in astrological — Pisces — terms, more chance for a similar mistake. Be a little careful with the folks you’re talking to. Might want to make sure that you’re looking at the right person before you engage your mouth. My neighbor was just amused. Bubba was almost embarrassed, “You know, the ponytail threw me.”
