"He was but as a cuckoo is in June,
Heard, not regarded."
Shakespeare’s The First Part of Henry the Fourth, III.ii.77-8
Mercury slowly turns in apparent retrograde motion this week. Stay tuned. Usual mercurial warnings apply. Click here to take the survey.
Gemini: The middle of June Gemini folks are just the best. Got that out of the way, right. This weekend is a chance to kick yourself into a higher gear. Seems like there’s been an over abundant amount of ennui and entropy at work with the poor Gemini mind, and I can’t make that any better other than to observe it. I’d prefer to observe it from a more distant location, but regrettably, I’ve got too many Gemini friends who’ve come along and dumped their collective angst on me. Not that it’s bad, but there you have it.
What’s going on is the moon is getting slimmer and slimmer, and finally, she disappears all together. Then she pops back out, and that’s a signal. Time to re-heat the Gemini plate full of leftovers, and time to get it all in gear. You’re way overdue for a good B-Day party, and there’s no time like the present to get all the invites out the door. Personally, I’ve gotten in the mood so that I can celebrate a particular person’s birthday for the whole month of the sign. Some — certainly not all — of the Gemini parties have been a little lackluster as of late, and now’s the time, this last week or so of Gemini, to get it all ramped up and into gear.
Cancer: I can only exhort so much then I’m all out of exclamations. It’s simple, really, see, there’s a new moon in Gemini, then you’re rolling. The days preceding the weekend are fraught with peril, but as soon as Friday afternoon arrives, there’s a little change. Maybe it’s not so much that you notice, but there’s a welcome flood of relief that comes in like torrential summer downpour that seems to cool everything off.
The apparent ambient temperature drops, and there’s that cool, and refreshing feeling, which accompanies the summer’s rain, a smell of wet dirt, the way the asphalt feels like it’s been washed, and the hint of milder temperatures. See, the sun is rapidly approaching a point where it’s at its highest point — the longest day of the year (Northern Hemisphere) — the Summer Solstice, and, perhaps more important, the beginning of Cancer birthdays.
We’re getting ready for a big Cancer-style, Moon Child-themed party, right? Should be. It looks good, coming up, but, here’s the kicker, it’s not here yet. So take it easy and pretend, if it’s not raining, that there’s a little cooler temperatures headed your way to help you chill this next week.
Leo: I’ll give me Leo friends a little preview about an up and coming event, "Saturn and Venus conjunct this year…." You can bet I’ll use that quote from a certain history play before too long, but I’m more concerned with the effects of Venus on my favorite Leo friends. See, Venus makes nice, and Saturn makes tough and Saturn usually trumps Venus; however, let’s dip into some really old astronomical lore.
Venus was one of the brightest stars observed by our ancestors. Venus is equated with love and war, in some cases, with equal parts. Not that there is much difference, not on some days, but that’s not the point. Or maybe it is the point. With Saturn weighing heavy and Venus trying ameliorate the effects of the old taskmaster, there might be a clue.
Love and war, are they really so different? Maybe not. As the Moon begins to fill out some, and as we all approach the summer solstice point, you know that it’s time to reconcile one old disagreement. There’s a single point that needs your attention, a little bit of Venus inspiration goes a long way to helping solve an old problem.
Virgo: Fire is a useful element, and Virgo is an earth sign. Imagine that you’re like a kiln, a large structure, much like an oven, and consider that the Virgo-earthenware needs to be fired in that kiln to make a beautiful and lasting piece of pottery. Venus and Mars are in fire signs, and those two planets are heating up matters in Virgo.
The tricky balance point we’re shooting for is that point wherein the effects of a fiery Mars and Venus are weighed against the sands of time. Too long, and the Virgo pottery melts. Too short, and it’s all too soft and squishy.
So the correct amount of time, as applied to the situation, and the solution to the problem, that varies from Virgo to Virgo, but consider that you need to give this enough attention to properly bake the pottery so that you wind up with a beautiful and lasting piece. Watch the time, as kilns vary from person to person as to what’s too long and what’s not long enough.
Libra: I was working on a fishing reel. The reel’s an older model, and after the last trip to the beach, I think some sand found its way into the gears. I had an exploded diagram that came with the reel, and I was looking at how the parts fit together, and I was working on taking apart the main pieces, just to clean it all out and oil the moving parts, give it all a good and thorough cleaning.
Currently, the reel is scattered across the coffee table. The little technical diagram that came in the box? That image is next to useless. None of the parts fit like that, and I’m pretty sure most of the drawing is not to scale. Problems, problems.
I rather seriously doubt that you’re undertaking the disassembly of a piece of equipment, but I’m sure you’re working on some similar kind of task. And the accompanying diagram? It’s not much good. Mars is still frying along in Aries, and that’s opposite from you. Therein is the trouble. And the solution, too, as Mars makes us all a little hasty. That reel is still sitting there, somewhat scattered. But I’ll get around to putting it back together before too long. The whole point is to take our time. Be a little more patient. Go easy. Allow a little extra time to cuss at the instructions that don’t seem to make sense. Then too, setting the half-finished project aside for a few minutes, hours, or even a week, that might help, too.
Scorpio: It was a rare double-Scorpio treat, the other afternoon, nothing but Scorpio folks, everywhere. I walked into one place, glanced at the hostess, nodded a tacit Scorpio hello, noted a Scorpio lounging at the bar, apparently off-duty, then I was served by another Scorpio. She got to talking about being a Scorpio, too. "You know, we’re really not all that nice," she said.
I demurred, but I’m not one to argue when someone is on a tiny rant. Personally, I think she was just posturing a little, trying for the "bad girl" type of position. She gave me a look with the barest (Scorpio) twinkle in her eyes. Yeah, Scorpio folks are not all that nice, sure. I’m not buying it, but I’m also not going to dispute what she said. All that Scorpio energy, though, got me to thinking, and I’ve found that there’s more good in the Scorpio than bad, or evil, and sometimes, a little irony helps go a long way towards smoothing over tense situations.
Not that a Scorpio likes a tense situation, but sometimes, a little bit of posturing in one direction serves as an antidote of sorts. Especially now: if you’re bad, pretend to be good, and if you’re good? Pretend to be bad.
Sagittarius: As a goodly Sagittarius type, we’re smoothing our way along. We’re usually good at being a little less abrupt and managing to help those around us get over little problems. Too bad we can’t always turn that kind of advice on ourselves? Or can we? As Gemini draws to a close, there’s a shot at cleaning up one little item. A tiny problem, really, not much of a big deal, but a little and pernicious point that’s been sort of hounding us, in the background, almost.
Remember turntables? The big, round disks made of vinyl? Our little Sagittarius problem is like a scratch, on a certain spot, on the record. It skips, but then, the rest of the song goes along smoothly until the needle hits the that spot again, and it skips. Again. This is one of those items that needs our attention, too. Can’t do a whole lot about a scratch in the vinyl of life, either, as there’s no real effective way to repair it. So when it comes to smoothing over this little situation, use that Sagittarius energy wisely. The flip side, the B-side of the record, that might be the easiest way to go.
Capricorn: It’s interesting, to me, what people get from a certain piece of writing. A book I wrote and published years ago has come back to haunt me. "Man, I was reading your Two-Meat Tuesday book, and I got that part about the girl in the swimsuit…." Which then led to a story about babes and bikinis and beaches, which led to a tale about bikini wax, and I leave the rest of it aside.
What was most amusing to me, was that it was true story, faithfully recorded, and secondly, the point of the story that the person I was talking to, the point of the tale had nothing to do with what was being discussed. It wasn’t about beaches and babes and so forth. To me, it was about perceptions. But then, the spirited and lively conversation afterwards, spurned on by my written words? I suppose, in some way, it did tie to the example I was using.
Look, my fine little Capricorn acquaintance, you’re like me, oftentimes misunderstood. Does it matter? No, see, what happens is someone gets something from some item you’ve written lately. Or performed in a similar media.
Aquarius: A typical Aquarius, as if there really was such a critter, but a typical Aquarius should relish the energy prevalent this week. It’s a long-standing phase that involves, for lack of a better analogy, standing around in a glass house, throwing bricks. The thin membrane that separates the inside from the outside is shattered. The part to be careful about is the broken shards of what’s left. That’s wherein the caution should be found. And it’s that simple, too. Really.
No big news, other than breaking through barrier that might be opaque to your Aquarius self. Besides the shattered fragments of other peoples’ reality? The problem is what’s crystal clear to an Aquarius might not be so clear to any other sign, and you go about with the Aquarius bricks, I’d be a little careful. That’s a caution, too, but I’m counting on your Aquarius self to come through for the rest of us.
Pisces: It’s simple physics; this isn’t rocket surgery. I was on a flight from one place to another, crowded flight, and there was one passenger with a carryon that was obviously not going to fit under the seat. Or, for that matter, the suitcase wasn’t going to fit in the overhead bin. That’s the problem with cheap travel, got to take what comes.
The guy just wasn’t getting it. He heaved and shoved, but the case was too big to fit in the allotted space. Sure, you’ve seen this before? I would hope so, and I would hope that it’s not going to happen to my Pisces friends with the summer travel season poking along. I’d hate to see a Pisces struggling with a stupid piece of luggage that was advertised as "carry on size," when, in fact, it isn’t.
It’s not really math, and it’s not really physics, either, it’s a point about spatial relationships, as in the item is too big to fit in the container. The obvious hint is that it’s just easier to check the luggage in the first place, but that’s so obvious, I’m sure a Pisces already understands that. What I’m trying to prevent, though, is a similar scenario wherein a delicate Pisces is manhandling an object that just doesn’t want to fit into the allotted space. The stuff to go in the container is too big to fit in the container.
Aries: Mars is like the sun, on hot afternoon in Texas, a hot summer afternoon in Texas, like we’ve just had, or will be having soon. Mars heats everything up to a broiling point, and then, the heat sort of sits there, a torpid, damp wool blanket on a day when no heat is really required, and if there had to be a wet blanket, couldn’t a cool, cotton blanket serve just as well? Sure it could, but that defeats the analogy, too, since it’s that excessive heat that gets our attention.
Mars requires activity. Gemini (where the sun is) suggests communication. Mercury suggests you stay home, and we’re back to Mars, pushing you out the door. I’d give into the Mars influence, and I’d be prepared to sweat. It’s really that simple, a long, hot summer afternoon without a breath of fresh air, and you’re silently, toiling away, making the best of the situation.
Worry about it? Why? As a reminder, what I’ve found, is a short dip in the creek, a swimming pool, even jumping in the lake? That’s a good way to start to help prevent some of the heat-induced (Mars induced) stress from getting to you. Cool off, or carry some kind of personal cooling to device to help offset the heat.
Taurus: I was wandering down an alley, close to town, and at the end of the alley, a pretty young female form appeared, "Hi! I was watching you in the window. How you doing?" It’s all good, I’m thinking, and I don’t know who it was, but she carried on like she knew me. I was rolling along pretty good, and after turning back around I missed my step on a curb and did an ungainly little dance step.
Trip. Fall. Call it what you want, but as I wandered on, I kept thinking about the influence of Mars (in Aries) and Taurus, and how that was a perfect example of something. A sweet young lass, attractive enough, probably a Taurus, right? Then the missed step, and me, almost falling on my face. A sprained ankle, and I’m sure there was some deep meaning in here, someplace. But then, the more I thought about it, the message became even more clear, just watch where you’re putting your feet. Don’t walk and talk at the same time. It’s that simple. Mars will trip you up, if you’re not careful.
