For the Week starting: 6.30.2005

“If they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad.”
Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing (II.i.330)

Aries: I dropped a plastic worm in the creek. I wasn’t really fishing, per se, I was just killing a little time between appointments. The creek water was pretty clear at that moment, and as I brought that worm up to the surface, this was a 7-inch plastic (salt impregnated) pumpkin colored piece, I felt and saw a vicious strike. “Fish ON!” I thought. Then I looked, through the creek’s water, I could see a tiny bass. He wasn’t as long as the bait itself, just a fingerling, really, and he attacked the last quarter of that worm. No hook, no hook set, nothing but a giggle from me. What I love about those fish? Here’s bait, much bigger than themselves, and the danged ole fish just attacked the bait. The deal was, that ole fish couldn’t get up to the hook, much less fit the worm in his mouth. The worm was probably longer than the fish its self. Best he could do was nibble at the tail. Reminded me of Mars, in Aries, and the way the Aries person is attacking some problem. Sage advice: don’t try to eat something bigger than your own head. Or bigger than your Aries self.

Taurus: I was quietly dozing on the couch. Futon. Crouton. Whatever you want to call it. Middle of the afternoon. I’d completed my writing assignment, fished for about three casts, and I’d stretched out with a book, and nodded off for a few moments. Tough life, huh? Shut up. So the cat comes out, and she decides she wants to curls up next to me, only, I was asleep when she leapt up on the couch and landed her claws in me. It wasn’t intentional on her part, of that, I’m fairly sure. But I did awake with a start, and as I jumped, she jumped, and now there are claw marks on my belly. Not much, and not much of a problem, wasn’t deep or tragic, just startled both of us. There is your Taurus self, all stretched out and reading a book or magazine, or something, and up pops the cat. Catches you “unawares.” Adrenaline pumps. There’s that funny look on your face. “Huh? What’s that?” followed by an “ouch.” When I was looking at your planets, I was trying to figure out how to explain it. See, there’s a little startling point. Not major upset, certainly nothing traumatic or dramatic. Except that I was sleeping and the action and its subsequent reaction was startling. Scared the cat. She thought I was mad at her or something. She dove under the couch. Meowed once. I’m not sure if it was an apology or a statement. Can’t always tell with her. A little tuna fish smoothed over the problem, later. Although, I thought she was supposed to grovel. As if that’ll ever happen. Expect a tiny (25-pound cat) upset. Nothing major.

Gemini: Fireworks! Yes! It’s that time, and you might as well get used to the idea that folks are going to be popping off around you, just like a long string of Black Cats, or Lady Fingers, or whatever their equivalent is these days. The idea is fun, but there’s something else kicking around in your charts, as well, and that’s going to make the fireworks a little more pronounced. I distinctly recall about two days before July 4th, some person of undefined intelligence, set off some loud and noisy fireworks — right in my blind spot, off to my port side, a little behind my peripheral vision. I jumped. Might have been the intended reaction. Scared me a little. More like startled me, not really frightened. A loud report followed by a string of loud reports, all in concerted union, all destined to set you on edge a little. More like startled, not really afraid of anything. Wrap your Gemini mind around the startling, upsetting, or just inconvenient events. It’s part of the holiday and there’s not a lot we can do about that. Enjoy the extra time off, as best you can. Maybe sneak up on someone and set off those fireworks yourself.

Cancer: “Life isn’t like a box of chocolates… it’s more like a jar of jalapenos. What you do today, might burn your butt tomorrow.” This one bubba, I’m not sure he realized that his little, off-the-cuff gem was going to wind up as an admonition for my dear Cancer friends. But that’s also a fair way to start your weekend. It’s a holiday, and you should be having a lot of fun. The deal is, you’re getting up towards that turning point in life, birthday time, and as such, a little red flag is waving in the heavens. Now, I’m not Cancer, nor do I play one on TV, so a red flag like that? It’s an invitation to for me to charge. You’re going to see the same red flag, and because the Sun is in your sign, you’re going to be sorely tempted to do like I do, and charge. It’s well-documented that I’m a professional at falling on my face in the most ungainly way. Normally, my little Cancer friends wouldn’t do that. But these are hardly normal times. Consider what that red flag is, and then consider what kind of fun you think you’re having. Then consider what the payback will be. Like the next morning. I’m not saying don’t have some fun, but a modicum of moderation might be worth considering.

Leo: A while back, when I was absent-mindedly cruising through a big super-store’s fishing aisle, I stumbled across a gadget I had to have. It was hook with a little alligator clip, only the clip’s jaws were flattened. Instead of spearing live bait on the hook, the idea was to just clip the bait next to the hook. I bought a couple of the hook gadgets, they weren’t expensive. It was a while before I got around to trying it with some worms. Those little Perch and Sunfish, the ones who live in the river in front of my place? Those are some crafty fish. I’d clip a worm to the hook, and a few minutes later, the bobber would bob, then the worm would disappear. Snatched from one set of jaws to another set of jaws. No luck. Sometimes, a really a cool idea, like this one, for preserving bait? Sometimes, an idea that looks wonderful on paper? In the real world, down here at the creek, hand-to-mouth combat with fish? It doesn’t work. The fish are now better fed, and I’m out the cost of the gadgets plus the price of a dozen fat night crawlers. I stopped at one bucket of worms. You’re the Leo. Can you stop when the gadget doesn’t work right?

Virgo: “Kramer that is the ugliest, most unrealistic looking crawdad I ever saw!” It was my Virgo neighbor, originally from Louisiana, and she was observing a plastic critter sitting on the coffee table. True story: with that one bait? I caught a fish. Wasn’t a big fish, wasn’t much to write home about, wasn’t something that I’d brag about, but for something that really didn’t appease a Louisiana native, it sure worked well to fool a local bass. So there. When I tried to impress her with the fact that I did fool a fish, she was remarkably unimpressed. Remind me to post that picture of her with a 50-pound catfish, out of the Mississippi. Makes a five-pound bass, which mine wasn’t, appear really tiny. Colorado River Black Bass, as compared to Mississippi Channel Catfish? Both are “big fish,” but when compared to each other, mine paled in comparison, one-tenth the size. When you start comparing items, be careful about what comparisons you choose. Maybe that plastic bait didn’t look like an appetizing Louisiana delicacy, but it worked on the local fish just fine.

Libra: “Hey. What’s up.” That’s the way the phone call started. After that, the normally gentle Libra voice on the other end was regaling me with a series of events that are just rather bizarre. Propriety, plus a certain respect for the client, doesn’t allow me to pass along the specifics. But it was torrid love affair, and at the heart of the situation was a ne’re-do-well person with a strong Sagittarius component to the natal chart. See, Sagittarius is associated with Jupiter, the planet of good luck and good fortune, which is, in Libra at this moment. Which, in turn, makes a Sagittarius way of seeing the world rather appealing, especially to a kind and sensitive Libra. Libra, though, tends to be a little more methodical than Sagittarius, and my wild and wanton ways don’t always go well with the more gentle and discreet Libra style. So be a little more guarded than usual with the gentle nature of Libra. You don’t want to be calling up an astrologer to regale him with tales about what sort of events have transpired, due to a small error in judgment on the part of the Libra.

Scorpio: When Venus and Mercury are in Leo, like they are now, that creates a slight tension angle to my dear Scorpio friends. Tension isn’t always bad, and from those two planets, it’s more like a friendly tickle as compared to real tension, which is more like a slap in the face. Boating on Town Lake, right on front of Shady Acres, is a big deal, especially in the summertime, and even more so on a holiday weekend. That tension, though, that’s a problem. It’s like the crowded lake, or riverfront, or whatever you choose to call it, and there’s a lot of traffic. Mostly harmless, none of it motorized, except for the cops, and not much of it a problem. It’s rather amusing to watch, too, as experienced rowers and kayakers navigate amongst the inexperienced canoe people. You’re not going to get up to a really good speed, but you are going to experience a mild congestion, thanks to those two planets. Now, the experienced Scorpio, or the experienced kayaker, what they do? Slow down, watch out for the amateurs and be amused by the antics. Plus keep a lifesaver handy — you never know when one of those other signs will need a little assistance getting fished out of the water.

Sagittarius: I was on an afternoon flight into Austin’s airport. The plane arced in over the Colorado River with its myriad of bends and twists, and I kept thinking, as I sat there, gazing out the window, “There would be a good place to fish. Right off that bend….” Plane landed, I shuttled in to downtown Austin, and I was back at work, computer plugged in, unloading the voice mail which had stacked up. But it was nice reverie, there for a moment, thinking about the river and fishing. Sagittarius is noted for its “bird’s eye view” of life. Or rivers. Or just about any scenario. Right before the party time starts, there’s a need for some attention to work. Like the shuttle home, the occasionally onerous details of digital communication, and so forth. While that moment of introspection and circumspection, that aerial view of life? While that’s fine, in the right time and place, like waiting on your commercial plane to land, once you hit the ground, get back up and running with what you’re supposed to be doing. Details. Look after the details, and we might get a chance in another week, to explore those other places to fish.

Capricorn: I was late getting my tax stuff in, and I was late getting my refund. The problem with that refund, I was spending it before I ever received the check from Uncle Sam. So when the check finally caught up with me, late and all, I’d already bought new fishing gear, refurbished part of the garden, and taken an extra trip that was absolutely necessary, all on that one anticipated return of funds. Not a good place to be. I’d spent that money, three different times, before I realized that I’d done a bit of tricky financing and I was in debt again. Right back where I started. So much for attempts at the lofty realm of higher finance. I’m not cut out to be an economist. Although, I’m sure there’s a good corollary between modern economist and modern astrologer; however, I think there’s more “black arts” involved in the economist position. You’re looking at a situation, not unlike my late return of tax funds, and you’re thinking about ways to spend that anticipated windfall. What I’m suggesting is that you take a lesson from my indulgences, and instead of spending it before it gets here, wait until the cash catches up with you. Then assess where, and how you’re going to spend that money. Have happy and safe — and hopefully frugal — holiday.

Aquarius: I was explaining — to a certain Aquarius — why I prefer to date women who already have children. Grown children, even. She concurred completely. I explained that if I wanted to go fishing, the Aquarius mind is one that would say, “Sure, fine. No problem.” To which, this one particular Aquarius added, “Hell, I’d buy you some bait just to get you out of my trailer!” She was rather enthusiastic. Love that. Whoever suggested that those Aquarius folks have no emotions couldn’t be further from the mark. Should’ve heard the enthusiasm from that one girl. We weren’t even dating, I was just making a point. That kind of Aquarius enthusiasm is infectious. But like many points of the finer Aquarius mind, not many folks are going to understand the infection. The enthusiasm. The joy. The funny, occasionally dry delivery. Some folks just don’t get it. Their loss. Recall that, as your fine Aquarius self runs into a problem in the coming few days. There you are, all happy about something, nodding your head in agreement, and no one else gets the point, or understands why you’re so happy. Except maybe that guy in Austin, the funny fishing guide thing. I get it. You get it. The rest of the folks? Wouldn’t worry about them. Now, I was going to try big, Canadian night crawlers this weekend….

Pisces: I was teasing with a boatload of fisherman, three in the boat, as they trolled past the dock at Shady Acres. I wasn’t too worried that they were going to catch any of my fish, and we swapped a couple of lies, then I told them where I thought they’d catch some fish — never mind that it’s a place that is basically inaccessible to me. I cajoled them a bit, and asked if they were planning on eating any of the fish, pretending to beg them to put the fish back. “Three power plants on this river? No way I’d eat those fish!” One of the fishermen said. My retort? “Chicken.” Never mind I wouldn’t eat one of those fish, partly out of loyalty to the fish, but also, partly out of health concerns. Plus I’m so much more of a catch and release guy, particularly on area lakes. My motto, “Take nothing but pictures, only leave pierced lips” never caught on. A little later, I was wondering why I’d teased the guys in the boat so, and I was poking through the Pisces chart, when I realized that there was that little aspect between two planets, Uranus (in Pisces) and Jupiter (in Libra). See, that’s going to make your sweet and demure Pisces self want to tease someone. I’m not saying it’s bad, but I was pretty careful with my targets, a passing boatload of loaded fishermen. Be careful with your targets.

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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