"In nature there’s no blemish but the mind;
Some can be call’d deform’d but the unkind
Virtue is beauty."
Shakespeare’s 12th Night (or What You Will) [III.iv.211-13]
Gemini: The first week of June Gemini folks are just the best. This, I know for fact. Happy birthday. Got a good year, coming up, if you can just make to the end of the summer. Or the end of the week.
I’ve got a huge collection of fishing gear. Some gets used most near ever day. Some just languishes in storage, and I wonder what I was thinking when I bought that piece of equipment. Made sense at the time, doesn’t make sense now. Way it goes. But as I was looking for something, I happened across a certain lure, and not having any better ideas, I tied it on, and gave it toss in the lake. Although it was out of the package, I think the lure was absolutely new, never been in the water before. I was just toying with the lure, seeing how it would work, and it caught a fish. Not sure who was more surprised, the fish or me. I was merely testing, but I do like live testing, just in case something does indicate an interest in my tests. Usually, not so much. But this one worked. Little bit of yellow in the color, I’d guess.
So it’s birthday time, huh? You’ve got a hypothesis that needs testing, only, like me, when you least expect it, during the trial and error phase, you might land a fish. Wasn’t, like, a big fish, either, but on some days, any kind of attention like that is nice. Happy birthday.
Cancer: It was a hot afternoon, late morning, really, and it seemed like the water level was down on the lake. Not so much a drought as a summer level. Pre-Cancer level, to me. As the sun crawled higher in the sky and burned off the clouds, we moved further and further up into a little cove for fish. Finally, in one isolated spot, after navigating around some fallen trees, there was a clearing in the matted water weeds, and in that clearing, there were fish. Several. Apparently hungry.
We could see them and they could see us. We spent several hours there, tossing just about everything onboard the boat, and then, we even tried a few items that might not occur in nature. Imagine a cross between a crawdad and wiggle worm. With legs and rattles. Oddly enough, it got their attention.
You can trust me for accurate fishing information. And sound astrology advice, since, like those fish, you can see your predator, but that also means, the predator can see you. Mars is squaring you, Mercury is popping along in your sign, but the Sun precedes you. And Venus moves into Leo next week. The question is, as much as you feel like the fish in that little clear spot, are you really the fish, or are you more like me, trying to gets the fishes’ attention, with everything I’ve got (to no avail, but it sure was fun)?
Leo: Ratchet up the Leo gears a notch or two. I was thinking, between a couple of influences, this is like fourth, fifth or sixth gear, or maybe, it’s like the old "overdrive" on some models of vehicles. So when I say suggest you go up a notch in the gear ratios, some times, this could also mean a downshift.
On the long highway between San Antonio and El Paso, there are some nicely-spaced, sort of spectacular hills. Grades in the road. Smooth interstate, not much of an issue, but to maintain a decent speed in a vehicle, sometimes it’s a matter of dropping down a gear in order to keep up the pace. Almost counter-intuitive, but that’s also part of the idea.
You give the Leo motor a little fuel, usually, that’s done by stepping on the accelerator, and then, you feel your momentum slow down. That’s what I mean by ratchet it up a notch. Which, in the example, might mean dropping to a lower gear ratio to get the most torque from the Leo drive train. Does it work? Might not happen over night, but Venus heads into your sign next week, and I’m sure you’ll feel it then.
Virgo: Ever wind up being the center of attention when your Virgo self is trying hard to not be noticed? That’s what’s happening, next couple of days. You don’t want to be in the spotlight, you’re not the star, you don’t care for the extra attention, but it happens. I was just sitting down to some BBQ, at this one place, and the guy at the next picnic table over looks at me, the person I was with and back to me, "You’re from Austin? Yeah, I know you. You’re someone famous."
Might’ve been the way I was carrying myself, my deportment and demeanor. Might’ve been the particularly fetching female I was with, younger and good-looking. Could’ve been my attitude. Could’ve been any number of factors. I quickly got a hasty retort, along the lines of "I’m no one famous. Never seen me before." That got them off my case, at least for a little while. I eventually sat with my back to the other table, just so the only thing they could see was electronic crap clipped to my waist and my ponytail. Left them wondering. This is a description of an actual event. I think it was the company that I was keeping, but who knows? You get the same treatment, this next few days. Mock me or mirror me, but I’ve found that the "I’m not famous, and you’ve never seen me before" line works rather well.
Libra: From wild to mild, it’s that easy. Or, it’s easy if you let it be easy. I’ve got more than one family member, friends and accomplices, who can take a simple situation and compound the complexity thereby insuring complete (and utter) chaos. Nothing quite as a good as little problem turned into a big, honking deal, that fast, either.
Personally, I consider it a challenge. The simplest solutions are sometimes the best. The Libra attitude goes from untamed and ornery to a more placated place. But during the full moon madness, careful with that special touch — like my friends, accomplices and cohorts — careful that you don’t take an easy solution to a situation and render it hopelessly complex. There’s no need to engage in that kind of ministrations. It’s not needed. Plus, once the full moon is passed us by? Then you’ll discover that the easier solutions do, indeed, make more sense.
Scorpio: I got one of those annoying e-mails the other morning. First thing I did was fume. Then I gritted my teeth, Then I remembered the last dentist bill and I un-gritted my teeth, but I was still angry. I know better than to react in anger because I have a tendency to write short, curt responses that cut too close to the bone. What I wanted to write, it’s a simple bit of obvious understanding, but, "If you’re not part of the solution, then you’re part of the problem."
This isn’t directed at Scorpio, but it might be a good rejoinder for you to use as this week progresses towards the weekend, and sallies forth unto next week. Think about it. It’s a basic binary point. Either solution or problem, but there’s no middle ground. Quit complaining. Get over to the solution portion of the problem. Move away from the general "I’ve been done wrong" portion of the program. That’s a luxury you can’t afford at this moment. Let’s move on — move our sweet Scorpio selves — let’s get a good direction picked, and work towards that goal.
Get out of the problem. Cut the chatter about what the problem is, and move towards a destination that is a viable solution. And like me, even though you might be a bit peeved, that doesn’t mean you should fire back that typical Scorpio response that is so right and yet gets a little close to biting. Give it a day or two, and you’ll discover that it really is their problem and not yours.
Sagittarius: I was gathering up mail, or doing laundry, who knows what I was doing, and I watched as a suspicious vehicle pulled into the trailer park’s, long, circular drive. It was later afternoon, the sun low in the Gemini sky, but that sun would still be up for several more hours, into the summer twilights. The door to a Sagittarius trailer swung open, the car slowed down, and one of my very Sagittarius neighbors emerged. He’s a little taller than me, and he had on black jeans, a black dress shirt, tucked in, black boots, which made him taller, and he shoulder-length hair was tied back in a tiny pig-tail.
In the last decade or so, this look has become associated with Euro-trash villains and Hollywood terrorists. I think it’s kind of fetching, for a look, in part of the year. Gemini and midsummer would not be a time for that proto-Goth look. I also know the neighbor’s birthday, and it’s a late December Sagittarius birthday. The over-kill of black? It’s a Pluto influence, and Pluto needs to be addressed one last time.
Not to mention that that all that black on hot summer afternoon seems a little out-of-place. It is and it isn’t. When it comes to style, I’m noted for lack thereof. Not a problem., But in the middle of the Texas heat, I wouldn’t want to exacerbate the conditions by wearing all black. Flip it around, though, and Pluto is a 28 degrees of Sagittarius, right about where that neighbor’s planets are….
Capricorn: There was a quaint bit of British slang I picked up: tackle tart. I’m figuring that the English (British) to English (American) translation would probably be "gear head." Although, to me, the term gear-head is less pejorative than "tackle tart." There might not be a direct translation, as slang can frequently defy normal terminology and linguistics is a slippery topic. Nuance is even more slippery, I’ll suppose. Which you should suppose, too.
With the mutable energies adding free-floating anxiety, and developing Mars situation adding a level of frustration to the unattached yet ever-present Capricorn anxiousness, this can be a bad recipe. I did a free-form chili one time, had a bad spice in it. Not hot, just too much of the weird stuff to taste good. Nothing that could effectively be covered up by peppers. Something just didn’t work right. I pawned the batch off on an unsuspecting (out-of-state) student-type. He loved it. Simple solution to a problem I had. Even though Mars is pushing or punching, you still have a good outlet. It’s all about nuance. And while that spice combination didn’t work for me, worked for another person. And while nuance of the terminology did work for me, I’m not sure that everyone (non-Capricorn persons) will get the point. You, however will understand.
Aquarius: Short, purposeful sentences work fine. Just fine. No need to use longer, more melodramatic forms of written expression that seem to wind on endlessly with almost no point, or perhaps the direction gets buried in a destination that is all but lost because the gentle nuance of the rhetoric fails to properly convey the desired graphic details.
In other words? Short sentences work better. Keep it simple. Don’t load up on fancy words. Simplify what you’re trying to get across. Make the direction, destination, point and counterpoint clear. Don’t use three words when one will suffice. Eschew obfuscation.
The reasoning behind the message I’m bent upon for the Aquarius mind? It has to do with empathically trying to illustrate a point. Clarity is the issue. Short, declarative sentences are the cure for the common Aquarius ailment. Short. Sweet. Simple.
Pisces: Buddy of mine rang me up the other afternoon. He was someplace on the road, driving, asked for direction to good food in an obscure town. There’s a Tex-Mex place, at a crossroads, in that town. Pink cinder-block building, yellow and green trim. Know the place? Usually a cop car or two, parked outside, as they do know where to dine.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, another call, same guy, cussing a blue streak. He’d just gotten off the phone with his significant other at the time. It wasn’t a pleasant exchange. He forgot a simple rule, when dealing with the fairer gender: logic, as us guys subscribe to, and then, there’s "chick logic," like, well, I can’t think of an example, but maybe if it involves make-up or directions? Or shopping? Anyway, I listened, he ranted, then he refused to understand my explanation. I’m sure that this can be flipped around, too, to guy logic, but alas, I don’t have any examples of that.
Guy logic makes perfect sense to me. Never said I was totally objective, either. However, I do understand that, in a relationship, the other party usually makes decision, inference, reference, or point that makes no sense whatsoever to the party I’m listening to. Now here’s the clue: get upset at the process, the so-called logic employed by someone else?
Can’t go wrong if you learn to listen and accept that form of reasoning as being a valid point, from the other person. Makes relationships a lot easier. And that’s what this all, really, about. Making it easier. You’re going to be face to face with chick logic, or guy logic, and you can’t win. Don’t start.
Aries: It sounds like this: "Whir-whir, click, crank, crank, crank." It’s a rhythm, a pace that I associate with fishing. It’s a simple, repetitive action, simple and straightforward. Plus there’s a sense of peace. It’s the same action over and over. Depends on the situation, the water’s condition, the mood of the fish, and so forth, plus, whatever is at the end of the fishing pole, big or little bait, sometimes it’s a short whir, sometimes it’s longer. It can be, on some occasions, punctuated with swear words, due to trajectory and relative physics of the material at hand. Or the cussing can be caused by crafty fish.
Still, there’s a calming affect derived from the action of standing there, sometimes walking, sometimes just sitting, and doing a similar action, over and over. That kind of activity soothes the soul. The Aries soul is fried by Mr. Mars and activity is the prescribed action. Personally, I prefer activity that involves something that is deemed a largely recreational pursuit, like fishing. Remember the adage, you can’t catch fish if you don’t have a line in the lake.
Taurus: Fish sometimes just slap at a lure rather than really bite it. Might be a bass’s inherent meanness. Just chasing the bait instead of really eating it. More a nuisance that a predator. I’d attribute it to laziness or meanness, or maybe a little of both. I had a small bass, just last week, do this to a lure I was testing. Of course, since it was a relatively new piece of equipment, the hooks were rather sharp. What I dragged in to the dock? Fish, lure, everything. The little bass was hooked under its wee big-mouth jaw. Fish wasn’t a lot bigger than the lure, so I think the fish was just poking at the lure. It was thoroughly entangled, under the jaw, with that lure’s new, sharp hooks.
I’d tend to think that Taurus is like that lure, someone — or something — comes poking around to annoy you. That person, or thing, gets hooked. But there’s the cautionary side to this week’s message, too, and that’s about poking your nose, or Taurus jaw, into a situation where you’re just there to annoy someone — or something. Remember my new lure? Hooked that one feller, for doing just that. It’s less about "curiosity killed the cat," and more about "curiosity hooked the small large-mouth-bass."
