“Thou call’dst me a dog before thou had a cause,
But since I am a dog, beware of my fangs.”
Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice [III.iii.6-7]
Shylock — the money guy — to Antonio who can’t seem to repay what was borrowed. The dog bit always makes me think about the aftermath of VD.
Aries: It’s so strange, I mean, sitting in my place. I get to see the vagaries and breezes of the Fates push up one side and then down another, watching, just observing, really, as the Aries psyche cycles up one side then surfs down the other side. One minute, it’s great and about thirty seconds later, I’m wondering if I’m listening to an Aries or a manic Gemini. Such mood swings aren’t usually typical of a stalwart and dependable Aries like your self. However, due to a wobble of the moon, there’s a little play in your chart, like a loose fitting on your emotional content. I imagine that it’s like the water pressure at Shady Acres, you know, feeding a water line that runs through a garden hose? Sometimes, sort of depends on who’s flushing or taking a shower, I suppose, but sometimes it gushes and sometimes it dribbles. The purpose of a valve at one end is to regulate that flow. The point is there’s only so much water pressure to feed this whole trailer park, and as such, there’s sometimes a relative paucity of water (flow). Other times? It’s a gusher, that’s for sure. The way to adapt to the week is the same way I adapt to the water pressure, sort of take it as part of the “charm” of living in a trailer park. Or living in an Aries skin.
Taurus: A Taurus friend of mine commutes on the city bus. We’ve shared bus stories because public transportation — in all its guises — can be interesting, at best. The problem is it can also bring out the worst in people. Considering where I hang my hat, in south Austin, a little more eccentric than just normally eccentric Austin, the bus stop tales can be a weird. She was complaining about people talking to her when all she wanted to do was read a book or a magazine. I found the perfect solution: for less than a dollar, there are cheap ear buds for a “personal, portable stereo.” She thought that was a great idea. No expensive music player to buy, no iPod, just a buck for the ear buds, and stick the loose end in a pocket. It looks like your busy. Folks leave you alone. At least, that’s the plan. Usually, I like listening to people talk, but I understand that sometimes, the silence is preferable. Consider my solution, a simple ruse, and it’s not dishonest. It’s just a way of saying, “I’m busy right now.”
Gemini: “Unattended children will be given two shots of espresso and a free puppy.” It’s warning sign, in a coffee shop, down on the Texas Gulf Coast. Reminded me of other, more bitter versions of similar signage. With Mars making his way into Gemini, there’s going to be an expectant, excited energy. Plus, Gemini is oft accused of behaving like a child. Hence the warning. I prefer that one sign from a long-ago place on the Texas Gulf, within earshot of the ocean’s surf. But then, I’ve always approved of a town with so many real fishing guides. Laid=back, relaxed, home to many “winter Texans,” as the local economy terms it. Nice and bucolic, which is nothing like a Gemini with Mars fast approaching. That’s like the unattended child. With two shots of espresso. And a new puppy, “I get to keep him, don’t I? Huh? Huh? Please!” Understand that the Gemini enthusiasm is Martian in origin. Grasp the concept that not everyone is as enthused as you are. Then go and play.
Cancer: I was cruising along a scenic back road, one of the routes I like travel. I’d stopped at a roadside marker to read the brief historical note, and I eased back out onto the highway. Two-lane highway. Black-top. Cool in the February sky, low clouds drifting up from the coast, that unhurried pace I tend to adopt. I passed a state trooper, headed the other direction, and I raised two fingers and smiled. He whipped his cruiser around and hit the lights. As soon as I saw that, I pulled right on over to the edge of the highway, eased to a stop on the shoulder, and by the time his cruiser had caught me, I had my license out, and I was handing over the rent car registration. We chatted, and I made no attempt at humor until he wrote the ticket — just a warning — then we laughed about the fact that I was in a newer car, but apparently the speedometer wasn’t calibrated correctly. Or maybe I wasn’t paying close attention. When wandering the back roads, little towns all have posted speed limits and it’s a really good idea to slow down when the sign appears even if there are no housing or other signs of civilization. My situation was lucky. He was in a good mood, and I didn’t offer any backtalk or doughnut jokes. I’m not sure it’s 11 miles an hour over the speed limit, but you’re going to do something that will attract some attention, and it might not be attention that you want. Be courteous. It’s the easiest way out. Righteous indignation and similar ire? Save it for later.
Leo: I’m getting a little upset with the “Solar-Lunar Fishing Tables” that I bought to consult. Seems like everyone has their own interpretation of what works, when the best time to fish is, and I’ve got two sets that I’ve used in the past. One set suggests that 10 AM to 1 PM is best but the competing calendar suggests that 3 PM to 5 PM is best and all other times won’t catch anything. I tried both, and both calendars yielded little, if any, good information. Best part? We all agree on the dates of the lunar phases. But that’s about it. Not much to go on, really, not anything new there. As I’ve tested these “fishing calendars” over the years, I’ve discovered that, like astrology, there are a lot of opinions, but not lot of second-hand corroborating evidence to support the marketing claims. Which is why I don’t make such claims. You’re like me, you’ve got a couple of different people telling you that this is the time to do that, or that it’s a good time for Leo to do this, or whatever. But like those stupid fish calendars that don’t work for me? I’ll wager my Leo friends are best to keep their own counsel and stick with what they know works right.
Virgo: Attention to detail? Yes. I got a long and winding e-mail, of the unsolicited kind, from a person who’d heard about me, and that person had heard about my special talents as a personal consultant. But first, I had to read through the bulk of the e-mail. I took one look and filed it under the “read when I’ve got some spare time” because, at first glance, it went into great detail with a description of various problems, long-winded, and almost pointless. Not realty pointless, but a great deal more detail than I really wanted. Or needed. First glance? Just another cry for help, one that I can’t answer. A day later, when I got around to reading all the details, I found that there was a promise of money for a real consultation. What I’d been looking at was like the first sentence, maybe a phrase or two in the middle and then skipping to the next paragraph. Glance. Skimming. Not paying attention to details, just getting the overall gist of the message. What I missed in my first glance? Details for payment and time frame for arranging an appointment. I thought about this when I looked at the Virgo chart. It’s in the details, but that quick glance that usually tells all you need to know? Might not be what you’re looking for. Might need to take a little more time, or better yet, allot a little more time for some Virgo-labor-intensive projects.
Libra: I’ve got a T-shirt, a 2 X Large, from a special restaurant in San Antonio. I’ve mentioned it before, the place is called Mi Tierra, and it is every bit as good in person as it is in myth and song. It’s true, 24/7 Mexican Restaurant, although, I would tend to classify the grub as rather high-quality Tex-Mex. But the flour tortillas are made by hand, the enchiladas and tacos are agreeable, and the hot sauce is usually fresh, spicy, piquant. I normally just wear a large, and yet, somehow I wound up with a 2XL this time. Good thing, too, because if I eat at that place too often, I’ll need the extra girth in the larger size. Instead of shopping for something new? What I’m really suggesting is looking for something to recycle. It’s about something that you already have, maybe you’re just in the process of growing into, like me and that double extras large.
Scorpio: I rolled around to the Scorpio chart, and took a good look. All I could think about was tender relief. Too bad this happens after VD, but that’s just the odd planets having a go at you. What it means is that some of the frustration, some of the toils and tribulations are finally getting better. Much better. The only flaw with my good news delivery is that the timing with the other folks, the other signs in the zodiac, or as we Scorpio folks like to address them, “the lesser 11,” the only hitch is that those folks don’t all feel the relief that you feel. So here you are, feeling pretty good, seeing that there is hope, seeing all lightness and airy love everywhere, kind of like a Cupid-inspired hangover, and the rest of the folks you run into are a bit down. Now, as a good, kind, sensitive and caring Scorpio, you are understanding of our feelings, but then, after being on the wrong side Mars and so forth for such a long time, maybe you aren’t as kind and understanding as you could be. It’s your call.
Sagittarius: I slid into a particular coffee shop, late one afternoon, hopefully still ahead of the rush hour crush. New girl behind the counter, and as is my wont, I asked her birthday. Sagittarius. Excellent! And, as I expected, it was a pretty good (double) shot of espresso, done right into the cup. I got engaged in a question about her place of origin because she had a UK accent, but not from cockney or London town. She was from Cambridge, you know the place where they built a bridge over the River Cam? I got, necessarily brief, a running commentary about travel trials and excitement about living in the US, at least briefly. Pretty interesting stuff, at least to me. In this situation, I’m Sagittarius with an (untrained) ear for accents and curiosity about how others perceive Austin and its environs. Nothing more. The running commentary and dialogue filled me up with a lot of information in a short period of time. But I’m Sagittarius, talking with another Sagittarius. Mars is starting to oppose us as he makes his way through Gemini. What that’s going to do? Unless you’re talking to another Sagittarius? Folks might not be able to keep up. That would be a problem. When addressing non-Sagittarius people? Someone without the heavy Mars thing going on? Plan on slowing it down.
Capricorn: Around the middle of the coming weekend? It’s good. All good. All the time. Benefits, blessing and beauty, but not necessarily in that order, but something like that. I was on the highway, not long ago, and I was in little four-door rent car, looked sort of like a gel-cap. I’m not sure of the make or brand. Valet asked me what it was, and I said, “White? I think?” The car’s keys had a rent-car company fob, kind of obvious, isn’t it? Anyway, back out on the highway, in that, probably white, rent-car: I was motoring down the freeway, and I was stuck between two big trucks, one in front, one behind. I think the posted limit was 55 MPH, but between those two big rigs, I noticed that I started to accelerate to keep up with them. Suddenly, or not so sudden, as this was a gradual increase, we were all zipping down the road at close to 80. I’m thinking that I’m making good time here, and I was safe, stuck between those two guys. Eventually, I mean this one place on the interstate is a legendary spot to be ambushed by the highway patrol, the truck in front tapped his brakes and shed some speed. I slowed down, too. A sports car went sailing past in the fast lane. A few more miles, and that sports car was stopped, behind the flashing lights of that highway patrol. I never knew any of this was happening because all I saw was the backside of the 18-wheeler in front of me. Which is fine, as he slowed down in time for us to keep it all legal. In the safety of that spot in between two conscientious (professional) drivers? Pay attention, Capricorn. When the guy in front slows down? Maybe you’d best be thinking about following that pace instead of heading for another ticket.
Aquarius: The January Aquarius folks are experiencing a weird transition. It’s a point in an astrology chart, or more correctly, a point in life, wherein certain decisions have to be made. “Is this what is right for me?” is the common question. Apt one, too. That’s what you’re supposed to ask yourself. Cold February morning. The sun was threatening to burn through the clouds. I wanted to just check the water’s condition, see if it was clear or muddy, to properly select the right fishing pole and tackle in order to be best prepared. I scampered out the door barefoot, dressed only in a T-shirt and jeans, cup of coffee in my hand. I aimed to spend a few minutes looking at the water, but the cold gravel of the walkway, the northerly breeze, and the fact that the sun wasn’t quite out yet? I spent about 30 seconds at the edge of the river, barefoot, and I scurried back inside. I had a better idea, though, the water was pretty stained, that means, it wasn’t too clear, and I knew what would probably work best. I’d — vainly — hoped it was warm enough for shorts and sandals, and while the weather didn’t agree with me that much, I did get a chance to ascertain what would work best. Over the next few days, you’re going to be like me, take a quick trip just to see what the conditions are like, and then make a more informed guess as the best way to approach the question.
Pisces: Pisces time finally gets kicked into gear, coming up this week. Therein is the good news. The deal is, not every other planet, or for that matter, every other sign, has caught up with the fact that it’s Pisces time. Perhaps “kicked into gear” isn’t the right expression, as it implies a lurching, fast-moving start, and that’s hardly the case. This is a slow and gradual start to your birthday month. Ease on into it. Don’t run, walk. The more I thought about it, though, the more the “kicked into gear” analogy made sense. I remember one particular motorcycle, a single cylinder Italian job, more a curiosity than a real machine. It took a half-dozen, at least, kicks to get it started. It was always a cold machine. Almost violent, too, in the way the kick-start would bite back, if the lever wasn’t positioned just so. So it took a little bit of tricky positioning, a tad bit of luck, and a strong leg, or, at least, a correct position and move that would make most professional soccer stars grimace. When that motor finally caught life? It made the most satisfying noise, and the little toy ran like a scalded ape (antiquated technical term for “fast”). But getting everything started correctly? It takes a little of presence, positioning, and placement. Get everything lined up and you can start Pisces time with just one kick. But if it’s not lined up quite perfectly? Might take more than one try before everything is purring along.
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