"Assume a virtue, if you have not."
Shakespeare’s Hamlet (III.iv.180)
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Gemini: I got stuck cleaning out one of the spam filters on the server’s e-mail side. It was catching upwards of hundreds of junk mail crap each day and I periodically have to go through and see what’s there, and then erase the rest. Mostly just erase. Pretty much, I’ll just scan the list and take a glance to see if there’s any "false positives," of which, I catch maybe one or two in every thousand or so, and then I just dispose of the rest.
Pretty good filter system, and it’s too bad that junk mail clogs the internet’s arteries, but it’s an occupational hazard. Or rather, just a fact of life. As I was quickly scanning the list of crap, I was thinking about the advent of Gemini, and Mercury in Gemini, and then, Venus in Cancer. As Gemini begins, there’s a little bit of periodic maintenance that’s required. Could be a simple chore like dumping old, unwanted e-mail fillers. It might be a little different, too, so it varies from person to person. But the idea is that you clean up one little corner, and then, the whole system — miraculously — starts to work better. This is a time for initiating work-related material that needs some attention. Required routine maintenance.
Cancer: I’d been fishing with a crappie rod and a really light spinning reel. In other words, I was using very lightweight gear. The one item, since I’m up on current conditions, was the fishing line, it was a little stronger test-strength than the lightweight gear would suggest. See, every so often, a big bass will hit my little lightweight set-up and then it’s extra good fun. But for what usually strikes? I had the drag set pretty light.
So when, as it was inevitable, that big feller took the bait, the little reel just spun out a few feet of line while I reached around and tried to gently crank the drag back up. Just a little bit of fun with friction, as that’s how the drag on fishing reel works. I was looking at the Cancer planets, and I noticed that there was the tiniest fraction of friction. Not so much that you would really notice it, but there’s a hint, sort of subtle, and the best example I could think of, what was at hand, was that lightweight fishing gear and the drag on that reel. Set too light. Not quite enough friction to stop a big fish. And that’s what you’re dealing with, as there’s a little bit of spin, but not quite enough astrological traction to get going, or in my case stop the spinning. You can adjust this, but it’s an action that you have take yourself.
Leo: I was purposefully striding towards some downtown destination, possibly to meet with a client, I’m not sure. On one of Austin’s bridges, actually, under the bridge, there, beside the trail, was familiar old bicycle. I’ve seen it and its rider, an older gentlemen, with a pack and a fishing pole. A few feet away, there was the guy, older guy, and I stopped long enough, as he was holding a fishing pole, peering in the lake’s water.
We talked fishing, bait, tactics, and how I’ve observed some fish where he was, so his perch should be productive. I had appointed rounds, but as I lengthened my stride and moved forward, I kept an image of that guy in my head. I want to be like him, his ebony face, the white goatee, the uncaring attitude about anything but riding his bicycle over to find some place to fish. The fishing tales got better while he described a fight with a large turtle over the bait and then the hook. Something I’ve experienced, too. Recently, even. It left me thinking about the twilight years, and what will be important, then.
Halfway, in the middle, someplace along the line, there’s that interruption. There’s that point that makes you stop and think. New moon, and the concomitant actions (and reactions) are going to give you a point to pause. Perhaps to think, too. What do you want to do with the rest of the time? Me? I’m thinking that guy on the bicycle, he’s got it made.
Virgo: I’ve forgotten what the situation was, but my quick retort was simple, "If you just follow the rules, it’s not a problem." I believe there was epithet, or possibly an anatomically impossible suggestion that followed my comment. But I’m unsure of that. I am sure that sometimes, staying within the bounds of common law, local restrictions, and perhaps, something as simple as following the directions, is all it takes.
The problem isn’t with the Virgo quadrant of the heavens, the area that is affected is the section called "non-Virgo people." This is where you get a chance to quietly ask, "You did read the directions, didn’t you?" There’s a trick to winding fishing line on a new reel I’ve got. There’s a hint in the little sheet that came with the reel, too. First time? I messed up and created a mess. Frustrating, to say the least. Then I looked at the exploded diagram, and it made sense, one quick action was all it took and I was winding line on like it was supposed to be.
A particular Virgo girl, she watched the whole process. But, instead of saying much in mean manner, she just asked, almost rhetorically, if reading the instructions was like stopping to ask for directions. Quiet, demure, a good way to pitch it. I’d suggest you follow her example. Much happier outcome.
Libra: I was ambling along, fishing pole in one hand and phone in the other, wrapping up a client call. I encountered a neighbor, headed the other direction,, and as I unhooked my earpiece, stuck the phone in my pocket, the neighbor dude started explaining that he was going to be away all summer, and I half-expected a "can you watch my place" request, only, what he explained, was that he rented his little trailer to a college student, only here for the summer.
Young lass. Jump forward a day or two, and she had come by to go over some of the details. Long legs. Blonde hair. Fill in the rest with your own, prurient imagination. Before any Libra starts thinking untoward thoughts about me, all I could do, after the perspective new (temporary though she may be) resident departed, was try and not ask my fateful question, "What’s her birthday?" I did, anyway, and my neighbor was unsure. He was collecting rent for a time when otherwise, he would just be paying. The trailer park got a young, attractive student-type for a couple of months. Or so it seems.
Every once in along while, there’s a little gift from the heavens. It could merely be an adornment, trinket or bauble, or, like the temporary resident, the promise of a comely lass next door for a little while. All about how your Libra self looks at it. "Oh dear, Kramer is hitting on his neighbor!" Hardly. Never date some one who lives in a trailer park. Especially right next door.
Scorpio: Ever get drunk and do something stupid? Caught you with that one, huh? What’s with the questions? I was trying to tackle the problem planets sideways, and that’s why I was trying to jiggle your memory, just a little. I can write off "the drunk and do something stupid" question to youthful, insouciant behavior. It’s not like we haven’t all done something like that, at some point over the years. Not being a drinking man myself, I can’t say this is a recent occurrence.
And that’s part of the point, too, because this could be an action from the distant past, back to remind you of some intermittent point. Or it could be a more recent event. Problem being, if it’s more recent, it’s not like I can blame the drinking, as I’ve alluded to. We don’t get into Gemini without a final, problematic, as previously alluded, situation. Could be a distant issue, or it could be from a more current period of time. You get one kick, and how you deal with this? That’s what’s so important. Timing is critical: put off the answer. Put it off until next week, at the very least.
Sagittarius: I was at the edge of the creek, Barton Creek, and I was emptying out my pockets for a quick spring dip in the cold, clear water. I was took a step closer to the edge, slipped in the mud, and rather than fall on my butt, I just turned the arm-waving gesture into an ungainly plunge into the water. Made a big splash. Looked like I was having fun. Or so I hope. Some afternoons, there’s not a lot of traffic there, so I’m unsure if I was seen. Not that it matters. I realized my wallet got wet, but other than that, the electronic devices were all unhooked at that point, so it looked like I meant to do that. The plunge.
When given a choice, I tend to wade in there because it’s a steep bank, and I’m unsure of what’s under the water, with its shifting bottom terrain. Sagittarius (dumb) luck, and Sagittarius grace (more like our innate clumsiness). With the onset of Gemini, we’re all going to run into a slippery place. Might be the edge of a creek. Could be any number of places, though, and while we get lucky this time, and make it look intentional? Think before you set foot in slick stuff. I can’t promise there’s nothing lurking under the water.
Capricorn: "Fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way," and "waiting for some one or something to show you the way…." Couple of lyrical reminders. In several cases, the lyrics are older than the Capricorns, but never mind that sticking point. I’d suggest a trivia game of guessing the lyrics, but alas, the inter-web has ruined that with its search engines. Takes less than a minute, maybe less. No point, now is there? Talk about, "Fritter and waste the hours," huh? As Taurus wraps up and Gemini gets a kicked into gear, your attitude and attention span are going to shatter, then reform, like light hitting a prism.
Refracted into a number of different directions, striated into all the bands of color in the spectrum, like a rainbow. From laser-like intensity and ease, you’re going to get sidetracked, and that’s okay. I tend to call it research. Doesn’t mean that it’s really research, in the proper sense of the word, but I do tend to dip into the main stream of the electronic world to sample where attitudes are. Indications of what’s happening. Attitudes and appearances, current trends. Sampling, maybe not always partaking. That’s part of the point.
As the Capricorn intensity is broken up into its component parts, and as you get easily distracted, realize that the Gemini Sun is the source of the distraction. Use it. Doesn’t hurt. You can tackle more problems with more creative solutions, if you’ll go ahead and let your mind wander. Which it will, anyway.
Aquarius: There’s a pretty wily old bass, lives in the lake in front of Shady Acres. Or behind Shady Acres, all depends on how you look at it. So I see her shadow, and she sniffs on pretty regular basis, but she’s been caught by me a few times, and there’s very little I can do to trick her into a photo session. Doesn’t stop me from trying, though. We’re old friends, and I wonder who is really the hunter and who is really the prey. But that’s just my way of looking at it.
I watched her the other morning, as she dashed up from the depths, long enough to look at the bait, then she rolled over on a side, looked that cork that was swinging above the bait, and she dismissed me, the bait, and the idea of a photo session. I’m sure, as I did catch a little later on, that I got a picture of her offspring. But think about how that bass looked at me, then looked at the cork — the little bobber — and then decided that what she saw had a line attached to it. I’m not sure she could see the fishing line, as she did examine what was on the end, but she was careful, too, and noted that there was that thing above the bait. Therefore, I’m sure she logically concluded, there was a fisher-person attached to her possible meal.
Skip the meal. Skip my tasty offering and skip thrashing around with a hook in her mouth, photo session, my fingers in her mouth and so on. She’s smart, that one, she looked before she tested. Before she stuck it in her mouth, she examined the surrounding water, seeing my innocuous cork, and I’m sure she determined that it was me. You get a tasty offering. Take it? Maybe check around before you bite.
Pisces: Grackles, Mexican Blackbirds, are a local nuisance, and for a scavenger, pretty astute. I once read, on the net someplace, that an average grackle had the same cognitive ability as a basic, domesticated dog. I’d say something about size, too, but I’ve seen ravens and blackbirds larger than some of the dogs I’ve seen around here. I’ve watched, at one restaurant’s patio, where the grackles congregate to collect chips from tables that aren’t too occupied.
Hard work for the bus person, I’m sure. Which is why, at a patio Tex-Mex place, I always try to make sure I leave no chips behind. Just doing my bit. The one little dusky blackbird that caught my attention, though, had a ketchup packet from a fast-food place. I’ve always considered ketchup to be the ultimate sauce for certain items, like burgers and fries. Almost requisite. But this isn’t about food, fried, fast or other. It’s about how that smart little bird figured out that the condiment packages made for a good food source. What’s one person’s sauce, to a different animal, it might be a meal. Or part of a scavengers meal, anyway. What might be barely a single squirt of sauce, maybe enough for about three fries to me, that might’ve been a full-meal deal for that bird.
Mars is gone, time to consider your attitude towards some items. Perhaps this is about a ketchup package, like, to me, not enough for three French fries, but to that bird? Dinner. Supper, at least.
Aries: I went out to feed the fish. No, this isn’t some kind of euphemism for fishing, I was literally kneading up old bread and tossing it in the river. It’s a kind of chum, as far as I’m concerned. So I was standing there, watching the little fish get all excited and whipping themselves into a feeding frenzy when I noticed an old friend, lurking nearby. She’d sniff at the bread crumbs, but she was more interested in a slower, less agile little fish. Food. If only I’d thought to bring a pole with me, we could’ve played a little game of "bite Kramer’s bait," but alas, I didn’t have a pole with me at that moment.
When I got done feeding the little fish, I did amble back around with a pole in hand, but she was long gone. Probably had a quick snack on one of the littler fishes. Maybe a full meal deal, who can say? But I missed my opportunity — that morning. But this isn’t really about feeding the fish, or fishing, it’s all about being prepared. "If only," is the catch phrase. Next time? I’m sure to bring a pole even though I was just loitering, really. At the very least, I can act prepared. Same applies to you, my fine Aries friend.
Taurus: There’s kind of an expectant quality to the way the air feels. The way the Taurus atmosphere is, like, you’re expecting something good to happen. Which, it just might as this coming weekend marks the end of Taurus, which gives way to the beginning of Gemini, and which, includes the first quarter moon. Which is all pretty good, really.
The birthday stuff is all but over, and there are a few of you guys having a little trouble with a certain boss, but other than that? It’s going to even out for spell. Which is nice. Summer is starting to get up towards days when it’s really hot, and mostly dry, and that’s not going to bother your fine little Taurus sentiment one little bit. I look around my 200 square feet of living space, and I think, "This is my kingdom." It might not be much, but it is mine (Well mine plus the landlord who’s reminded me I was month behind in rent, but that’s not part of the Taurus issue.) Survey your Taurus domain, your Taurus kingdom. Perhaps take stock, or perhaps, just sit back and enjoy. You’ve got some easy stuff coming up, why not enjoy what you have?
