- “He longs to eat the English.”
Shakespeare’s Henry V [III.vii.89]
Aries: I had a piece of e-mail, a carefully crafted note, that was going out to an editor. A query letter, trying to ply my wares. Such as they are. I worked on that note for a while, and it went through several revisions, trying to get it succinct, coy, quick, to the point, and to make an emphasis. I toyed with it for a week. Then I checked the charts — the astrology charts. I wanted to send the note at the most propitious time possible. The query e-mail sat in my “draft” outbox for over two weeks. I’m used to dealing with e-mail in a very Aries fashion. It’s a lot like slash and burn. Just get in, pound out a reply and move on the next item. Reply, delete, next. So a note languishing in the outgoing stack of material, but unsent, almost drove me crazy. That’s the problem, see, it’s not the most propitious time to send out that Aries resume, that Aries query letter, or, for that matter, to do any cold calling. It’s not bad time for some very Aries activities, but as far as starting something new? Not yet. Patience. Right, like any Aries can be patient. Drove me crazy to not send that note until the time I picked — astrologically. So if it’s a new project, I’d suggest you hold off. If you’re just picking up where you left off last time, then by all means, move forward with Mercury’s blessings.
Taurus: It was a wee Taurus lass, and she was singing to the sound piped in over the speakers in-house. “Boys don’t cry.” Deal is, I’ve asked her birth data before, and so I was pretty sure the song was older than her. The problem being, the music, as it was presented in that one establishment, it was of a “punkish” vein. Truly alternative music. The incongruity that caught my attention was the Taurus, singing along with a song that was probably older than her. Mr. Mercury brings up certain incongruities in life. There you are, enjoying a warm espresso drink on hot summer night, and you notice little actions. You see items that other folks might not pick up. It’s just strange. Don’t make a fool of yourself, like I did. “Hey, that’s song’s older than you, dear Taurus.” In fact, the song isn’t older than the girl singing it. Close, but there’s a few years in there that I didn’t account for. I can save you from making a fool of yourself, if you just don’t point out the apparent incongruities.
Gemini: “Please do not flush toilet while train is in station.” It’s an old sign, or a copy of an old sign. It’s up over the toilet in a Gemini’s apartment. Prior to the apartment, it was up over the toilet when that Gemini lived in a house that was actually near the Austin train station. “No, see folks used to really ask me, ‘Can we flush now? No train’s in the station.'” As I’ve always suggested, one can never go wrong underestimating the American intelligence factor. Plus, there’s the other point, see, you’re like my exasperated Gemini. Or amused Gemini. It’s all a cosmic joke. Mr. Mars is cooking along in Taurus. Not in Gemini. It’s not you. You put up a piece of artwork, and folks completely misunderstand the intended meaning. Or people ask stupid questions. And please, as a reminder, don’t flush the toilet while the train is in the station.
Cancer: There’s a simple portent, usually reserved for cartoons. It’s the shadow of something, like a big crate, or maybe a safe, falling from the sky. As the shadow gets larger, it means the object is approaching faster and faster. In the real world, that object would accelerate a constant 9.8 meters per second (squared). In that cartoon version? It’s either much slower, or faster, but the clue — a clear, visual clue — the shadow. It’s getting larger and larger. Now, you’re like that cartoon character, you see the shadow at your feet growing larger and larger. What are you going to do about it? Stand there? Ponder the dynamics of gravity? Wonder why, like that cartoon, the falling object is taking so long to reach you? Here’s an idea: step out of the way. Move to the left. Move to the right, Just move out of the way of the falling object. You can’t say you weren’t warned, you saw the shadow, a clear indication of danger, a clear signal that something is about to land on you, right? So step out of the way. See, that cartoon safe, or crate, or whatever it is? In a cartoon, the character underneath the object gets flattened, but also, that same character can walk away from the problem, albeit slightly two-dimensional for the time. No reason for this to happen to my dear Cancer friends. Just step out of the way.
Leo: “See, like this, it’s called ‘the willows’ in Alaska. I was on the river, there, and what you do, like, if you’re heading upstream, you find these deep eddies, and let the backwards’ currents carry you up the river.” I was tossing a line in the lake, and a neighbor stopped by to observe my action. He then went on to relate tales of travel and river knowledge. It was pretty much wasted on me, as it’s all lore I’m more than familiar with. But he was expounding and holding forth, so I feigned ignorance and interest. I didn’t bother to explain the last time I’d been in Alaska, north of the Artic Circle, the river was frozen. He just assumed I was another unlettered, untutored, untraveled, trailer park dwelling (something). Face to face, even though Mr. Mercury has the good sense to turn around, your extra fine and delicate Leo self is going to run into a similar situation. Imitate my actions, nod appreciatively. Act like you care. Pretend to hang on every word. The method here is about dealing with two issues: one, what’s leftover from the Mercury Mayhem; and two, how people perceive you. They think you need help, or advice, or instruction, or, at the very least, being told what to do. Take in their advice, help, musings, and so forth. Makes for a much smoother form of interaction — although — this interaction will feel a little one-sided.
Virgo: Buddy of mine was gone for most of the best fishing season — summer vacation. However, we did get together in July, typically not a wonderful time to fish as the best bass are in their summer homes, deep. We’d hit the lake early, and not long after sunrise, working in a weed bed, we’d managed to pull in a couple of fish. The trick was to be out on the lake early. Usually, sun’s up a little after 6 AM, so if we can hit the lake before that event occurs, it’s good. Then, as the day warmed up to its usually “roast & baste” temperature, we headed on in. Stopped off at Southside Meat Market in Elgin, a consistent favorite. Home of the world-famous Elgin Hotlinks. (“Often imitated, never equaled,” that’s our byline.) Yeah, welcome home, buddy. Sunrise, fishing, BBQ, it’s all good. Instead of looking for the big events, the big deals the major points that point to a happy kind of excess, sometimes, what’s most important can be found right in one’s own Virgo backyard. Summer vacation in exotic locales? Or jus some fishing and BBQ? Your own backyard ain’t half bad, now is it?
Libra: There’s an impatience that pervades the first couple of days of this scope. Then, before to long, something starts to happen. I was looking at the Moon, getting full. Plus, see: Miss Venus is rapidly approaching. She’ll be here by next week. Coincides with that full moon nicely. Add that to the number of items already kicking around in Libra? You’ve got an impromptu party on your hands. It’s good. You didn’t plan it. Weren’t going to let this sneak up, either, but I would be remiss if I didn’t push you right on over the edge and suggest, just as soon as Miss Venus hits your sign, that you get ready to play. Play hard. Play fast and loose. You inclined to wonder, as this first posts, why you’re feeling a little reckless. Dangerously so, almost. However, all of a sudden like, it hits. This is good. I’d been toying with some fish for a few days, not having any luck whatsoever. Nothing I tossed in the lake interested those fish. Then, all of sudden, the moon, Venus, everything collaborated to make this most excellent. Fish on!
Scorpio: Conventional wisdom dictated that I should tie on a lure that was slow, noisy and deep. Conventional wisdom is nice, but you’re a Scorpio. You’re reading fishing Guide to the Stars. You have uncommon wit, tenacity, and according to some, a slight masochistic streak. When I sat down to tie on that lure that was slow, noisy and deep, as I flipped through the tackle box, I came up with something that wasn’t so much as a noisemaker as wiggler. And I threw conventional wisdom out the window. Now, in my case, since I’m not a Scorpio, my little flight of fantasy didn’t work. No luck. However, if I’d been a Scorpio, and if I’d deviated from what is commonly referred to as conventional wisdom, them I’m pretty sure my luck would have been different. It’s matter of taking what you know, and adding some of your own wisdom to an existing situation. The problem, as I see it, what with Mars opposing your sign, you might not have success right away, but if you stay on your won course, instead of course dictated by other signs, you might find some luck.
Sagittarius: I was sorting through miscellaneous trash floating on my desk. I found an old lottery ticket, or I thought it was an old lottery ticket, so I popped over to the lottery website, checked the numbers against the last drawing, and I crumpled that ticket up. Then I found a second ticket on the desk, a few minutes later. And I looked closely at the date on the ticket. That was the ticket for the last drawing, not the one I’d crumpled up. So I picked up the wad of paper that was — hopefully — a future winning number, and I looked at the ticket I’d mistaken for next time, and checked the numbers. Then I crumpled that one up. It was just a moment of confusion, but notice that I was referring to the mistaken ticket, the future ticket, as a winner. Every once in a while, I get a strange string of luck. I’ll catch maybe two or three numbers on ticket, and I’ll have enough money to cover a hotlink, or a breakfast taco, and large drink of some kind. Hot summer days, that really qualifies as lunch. Or dinner. In other words, a few bucks is the same as a free meal. Pay attention to the details. Like that date on the lottery ticket. It may just be a scrap of paper littering the desk. Or it might be a free meal. Never can tell. Hope runs high in the Sagittarius section of the sky. But along with that hope, there can be a little confusion. Careful to check the dates on the document.
Capricorn: I was standing at the river’s edge, just outside my back door, really, two spots away from where I live, and I was just watching the water seep on by. There’s a little eddy, and a strange looking object was caught in the eddy’s current. At first, I thought it was a, like, an iguana, or some other kind of a big lizard like that. I kept looking, then I nudged my neighbor with my elbow, he was fishing at the time, “Is that what I think it is?” He laughed. “It’s a leaf, from over yonder. One of those big elephant leaf looking things.” The amusing part to me, I saw the same leaf, or something that looked like the same leaf, twirling in the same eddy, the next day. To my eyes, it really did look like a big lizard, treading water, floating along, something. You are a Capricorn; you have a keen facility for observation; you are going to see a strange sight, and you’re going to think that your eyes are deceiving you. The eyesight’s fine. The problem is in the interpretation of what you see. Personally, I like my wild flight of insight, but be careful, you’re, like as not, going to have neighbor standing by, who points out that you’re not seeing what you think you’re seeing.
Aquarius: “Hey Kramer, fix my computer.” It was friend, and I just adore the way this happens, because I’m male, and because it’s a computer (box with wires), one naturally assumes that I can fix it. It’s an adjunct to the “You’re a guy; it’s a car, you can fix it,” theorem. Perhaps this is a modern update, “I was wondering if you could look at my computer for me?” Unless it’s a certain brand, and unless it’s a model that I have extensive experience with, there’s not a lot I can do. That applies to both trucks and computers. Full moon, straight up ahead in Aquarius. People are going to be bringing you bizarre requests for assistance. In a few limited cases, your vast store of Aquarius knowledge can zip in, fix the problem, and we’re all on way, happy again. However, as I sat down in front of a machine that I was wholly unfamiliar with, I diddled the keyboard, tried a few things, read a help file, and executed a command or two, I did manage to fix the machine rather than screw it up worse. But I can’t expect every Aquarius to be as lucky as I was, given the situations.
Pisces: I was in a BBQ place, a joint notable for the fact that it’s not notable. Close is an important factor. Plus, on certain occasions, the brisket is exceptional. Or the ribs are masterpieces of the cook’s art. Usually doesn’t all hit on the same day, but anyplace where I can buy live bait next door? Works well. So I was there, and the waitress sashays up, takes my order, then with perfunctory, I’ve-done-this-all-day noise, asks if I would like to try the new balsamic vinaigrette on my salad. Been going to that place for years. It’s a Texas place. Salad gets served with Ranch Dressing. When Bubba was doing the only no-carb diet thing, he would get either Blue Cheese or Vinegar. “Balsamic Vinaigrette” is something that belongs in a fancy place, not a restaurant where the preferred table setting is paper towels in a roll, not fine linen. A place with a slogan, like, “you don’t need no teeth to eat our meat,” isn’t exactly the place to expect a balsamic vinaigrette. The message, as this week gets longer and longer? You’re in a great place with a good service, sassy help, and they ask about something that doesn’t fit. Don’t waste your precious Pisces time with ordering ‘balsamic vinaigrette’ in a cheap BBQ place. Helps manage those expectations.
