"What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!"
Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus [IV.ii.97]
Aries: Later, like next week, Mercury finally careens in Aries. At the very end of this scope, Venus pops into Gemini. And to start it all off, here in another day or two, Mars slips into Pisces. None of this is really Aries stuff, except for the Mercury thing. And none of this places proper emphasis on where the stressed syllable should be: in Aries.
Birthday’s are a big thing, but these are going to slip by kind of quiet for Aries folks. Not that it’s bad, it just is. There’s a sense that the timing isn’t quite right for the big celebration, even though, and I’m sure you’ll agree, you deserve one.
Taurus: Ever get some good news, some personal tidbit of information that you just want to share with the world? As Venus moves into the next sign (Gemini), and as Mars moves into Pisces, you’re going to get just such a piece of data. Check your inbound mail, or the pony express, or whatever you have.
You may already be a winner.
However, as I mentioned those two planets, neither one is in Taurus now. Well, Venus is in Taurus, but when this scope rolls on into the next week, Venus rolls on into her next destination. That puts Taurus in an awkward spot. Filled to the brim, almost bursting with good news of some kind? It’s not the time to make the big announcement yet. Save it for about ten days, at least. Doesn’t mean you can’t sit there and grin, but I would suggest that you keep the news to yourself, just as yet. I realize this goes against your basic nature, and lord knows, we could all use even the tiniest modicum of good news, but try to sit on it, if you can. Make an effort to keep it under your hat.
Gemini: Venus is headed your way — next week. Until she arrives, though? Just sit tight. Easy enough for me to say, I’m not a Gemini and therefore, I don’t enjoy that boundless Gemini enthusiasm. I realize that no one would not expect a Gemini to pop off in a premature manner with a quick quip or quote, but I’m saying, "hold that thought" process. Give it a week, maybe ten days, maybe just a little longer.
I’m watching the Venus situation, because, as it develops, you’ve got an opportunity, coming up, and timing is important.
Now’s the time. But it’s also not the time. You’re doing pretty good, but as usual, you’re also moving at an accelerated pace, and the rest of us? The non-Gemini folk you encounter? We’re moving at a different speed. And your quick wit won’t work on us. That’s a problem. The solution, though, as I suggested before, is to slow it down and pad an extra week into the process.
Cancer: "I tried, but I just couldn’t make it," a buddy of mine was telling me. He had, according to the tale, tried to climb the highest point in Texas. "Seven thousand feet, right?" I asked. "No, more like, over eight thousand," he went on with his tale of woe, heartbreak and sore feet from switchbacks. As native Texans, even tall hills can pose a problem. I understand the concept behind the switchbacks, though, it’s like less than a mile upwards, but the trail itself seems to stretch for 8 miles or more. Weird how that works. My buddy didn’t make it to the top, health, altitude, sore feet, and I’m guessing here, wrong footwear.
What works for an easy trek through a familiar environment isn’t always a good idea on the harsh desert peaks. What looks easy on paper isn’t always as easy it appears. Like my buddy, though, I don’t figure there’s any shame in night quite getting to the pinnacle of the peak. Just making an attempt on the summit? That might be the pinnacle of success. All depends on how the problem — and its concomitant solution — is viewed.
Leo: I was standing in line at a coffee shop in downtown San Antonio. The SA Park Police were having a morning break, just coffee, no donut jokes, and the pair seemed to be in a jovial mood. I was about to ask a question, when a radio squawked. One cop grinned at me, "It’s that crazy guy from last night," he said and motioned to his partner. "How can you tell which ones are crazy?" I asked. "This one has a pony tail and loud shirt," he grinned at me, "and a military vest — pretty hard to be around on some days."
Like that cop, Leo is going to be sitting there, enjoying a cup of coffee, and like the cop, the radio will squawk, and like the cop, there’s sometimes a fine line between madness, certifiable mental cases, and the everyday background noise. I tend to tread that line merrily, but then, I might be crazy. Hard to tell. Likewise, for my little Leo friends, it’s a fine line, and trying to discern what’s certifiable insanity, and what’s just background run-of-the-mill craziness? Good luck telling the difference. Usually, you don’t have to worry about guys with ponytails.
Virgo: I was posing with a fish, the two of us were in a boat, and my fishing buddy turned the camera over in his hand before he clicked the shutter. Do digital cameras have shutters? Who knows? I don’t care, maybe it’s just a switch and it clicks like it was shutter. Anyway, he looks at the camera, and notes that it’s another new camera. I’m hard on equipment.
I tend towards cheap hardware, when it’s something like a camera because I’m averaging one point five cameras per year. They aren’t waterproof, and that’s certainly a problem, and while they are advertised as being durable and pocket-proof, my experience indicates that those cameras don’t hold up to my abuse. Sometimes, like with me, a cheaper, more affordable alternative is better. Stands up to the abuse, and I’m not afraid to take a camera with me — if the digital image device gets trashed, it’s no great loss. A great loss would be not having something handy to snap a picture.
Libra: After a couple of trips to the coast, for a little Redfish action, I’ve got a few ideas on how to rig poles for what might work. Popping corks, weights, beads, it all works together. A typical "popping cork with leader" costs a couple of bucks. The rig is popular because it just works, usually about two feet of leader wire, weight and popping cork. I started to experiment a little with the set-up because I figured there’s a price point at work, and I might be able to conjure up a slightly different presentation that would land me more fish.
I started with a cork, a couple of feet of leader, weights, beads and so forth. Terminal tackle, too. Got it all set up, and stuck a fake shrimp on the end, for testing purposes. My first idea? Didn’t fly, float, or fish. Maybe it would fish, but not too well. Second try? Much better, smaller weight, bigger cork, fewer beads. But it didn’t fly like I wanted, so it was back for a third try. What I finished with looked a lot like a the manufactured set-ups.
It’s all about trial and error, and the old back to the tackle box to see what we can rig. Eventually, I got to the point where I realized that the cheap set-ups were worth it because they worked, as they exist. No need for me to re-invent the arrangement. But it was fun trying. Might put your Libra hand (and mind) to work on a similar problem. You might actually come up with a better arrangement, whether it’s fishing gear or some other solution.
Scorpio: I looked at a stack of unpaid bills, and I was going to do the "lottery" thing, you know, every Wednesday and Saturday, pick a bill and pay it? But I opted against that. What I did was shuffle the bills, tuck them back into their cubbyhole, and let them sit. Let them get to know each other. And me?
I find that I had a new sense of peace and joy. The bills aren’t getting paid. I don’t care. None of them are due until next month and that means I’ve got the rest of this month to do as little, or as much, as I want to do. And I’ll avoid even looking at the "unpaid bill stack," since doing so usually evokes a mild bit of depression. Or anxiety. Or worry. Or just a sour nature.
Avoiding a problem like me? That usually doesn’t work for the Scorpio. There’s at least one Scorpio who will worry that I’m not worrying about the bills for the time being, but that’s just one. The rest of you guys? I have a suggestion: do like me. Follow me on this one, nothing is due for a few more weeks, so don’t pay any attention to the problem. If it can be put off until later? Sometimes, a little procrastination isn’t such a bad idea.
Sagittarius: I make an effort to pay attention to details. When I was last in the West Texas "oil patch," I noticed a company’s name: Hope Drilling. It was on the side of a service truck, just a typical truck. The sign was lettered and faded, and I got to wondering about that name. Did it stand for a biblical reference, perhaps an article of faith for the owner of the company? Or was it the name of water drilling outfit, and that’s something everybody is always hoping for? Oil drilling company?
Could be any of those, and I’m sure I didn’t cover all the possible scenarios. That particular portion of West Texas can look like a dust bowl. It’s harsh environment, and in reality, it’s part of a desert eco-system. The name on that truck is wonderfully evocative of how it feels in Sagittarius. If we can just plunge ahead, despite the outward appearances, we’re going to strike it rich. Could be mineral rights, could be something else. Even precious water would be a good hit
Capricorn: I have a passing interest in marine technology. Not necessarily the latest and greatest, as I’ve found sometime, the simpler boats work just fine, especially in shallow creeks and gentle reservoirs where I like to fish. So I was noticing the San Antonio Park Police, and their brand of cop boat. Just a 14-foot aluminum johnboat, small outboard motor, but around the outboard? There was a special cage-like protecting structure.
Looked, to my untrained eye, like a custom bit of welding. Just some bent-up rebar and nice welds, all done in such a way as to protect the motor from injury. What it looked like to me, anyway, and I’m sure, it’s more for the river’s traffic rather than to protect any barely native wildlife. I’m figuring, given the current planet disposition, that a good Capricorn needs just such a cage around him or her. It’s a simple, strong, not terribly ornate or, for that matter, not terribly pretty, but as simple protection from a whirring propeller, I’m sure it would be handy.
More to the point, though, it also protects against clumsy mistakes, either by tourists, patrons, or even the ship’s captain. Since the paddle boats have been removed, there’s not nearly as much vehicular traffic along the tourist section of the river. However, when those police boats are moored, tied up, or otherwise stationary, the little cage serves to protect. Not a bad idea for the next couple of days, a little rebar, some spot welds, you’ll be fine.
Aquarius: For a while, I used a special kind of dye in my live bait. Environmentally friendly, served as a food source to keep the bait alive, and best of all, it colored the bait a special hue. Made the food source look more attractive to the target, my little fish friends. Works well, as long as I don’t overdo the coloring. What happens then, a fish will strike at the bait, maybe take a tentative bite, and out pours all that carefully ingested food coloring. It’s like a little stain in the water, and the perspicacious fish will know that it’s one of mine.
In the clear creek water, there’s thin trail of smoky color, like an underwater puff of smoke from one of my cigars. Mars is leaving a trail just like that, a thin little puff of something over where he’s been. It can either be an alert to some, especially big game fish, and Aquarius, or it can be signal, to small bait fish, and Aquarius, that there’s food in the water, dinner time. One way or another, you’ve got the trail of Mars, like my bait dye, floating in the water. How you deal with the signal? That’s up to you. To me, I just hope it signals feeding time for the fish.
Pisces: Do you know what the original game of "Texas Hold ’em" was? Steer wrestling. Not to be confused with cow tipping, either. I was thinking about steer wrestling — not a sport I was going to engage in myself — because I was looking at Mars, as he slides on into Pisces. Getting a grip on the impact of Mars is like that early version of Texas Hold ’em, too. Execute the maneuver correctly? Takes a few seconds and there’s a big animal, fit to be tied, on the ground. But make the tiniest mistake, and there’s all kinds of hell breaking loose.
Then consider, too, that the animal might not enjoy the experience and might take a distaff view of the proceedings. Hence, trouble. Like Mars. Mars and steer wrestling, pretty much the same kind of energy. When it works, it works very well. Watching a good cowboy firing out of the chute at 30 MPH, maybe more? Sliding off the horse, then bulldogging that critter to the ground in a single, swift motion? Looks like a delicate ballet move, and, in its essence, it really is. But a single bad judgment call? Or a particularly unruly critter? Bad news.
Mars is like that. As he slips on into Pisces? It’s like that cowboy, jumping out of the chute, catching up with the steer. What happens next? It’s up to Pisces, but I’m thinking, it’s a lot like that rodeo move. Do it right? You’re a big winner. In the money. Wrong move with Mars? Limping off the field after being thrown in the dirt.
