"He wears his faith as the fashion of his hat; it ever
Changes with the next block."
Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing (I.i.30)
Previously, on this web page… (happy Easter).
Aries: I was in a little BBQ place in the Hill country, west of here. It was late on a Saturday afternoon, before the spring breaks get into gear, and long after the Xmas shopping season is over. Dull time, for the BBQ place. I walk in, road weary, dusty. I order up some brisket and pork ribs, I’m sure, and while I’m ordering, one of the kids slips from behind the counter to head towards the front door.
"Hey, I’m just going to wash the sidewalk out front, and if you don’t mind, I’ll hose of your truck, too. If that’s okay with you."
Sure, I nod, and I can tell by the crooked grin, the kid is local. And the car wash is some kind of a running gag that I don’t get. It doesn’t take three kids to make a single BBQ order, but there were three in attendance. I suppose they were getting ready for the big evening rush, although, as I recall, the place closed in an hour or so. A elderly couple came through the front, bringing the total number of patrons to equal the number of present employees. The kid out front, with a hose in hand, he came back in, made another car wash joke, and went back outside.
You did want your truck (or car) hosed off, didn’t you?
Taurus: I got stuck with a person bargaining with me. Or trying to bargain. Taurus lass, if you must know. Here’s the problem, her desire to strike a bargain didn’t sound much like a bargain to me. She didn’t offer anything in the way of compensation or inducement to make her extra aggravation worth my while. It wasn’t a matter of making a sale, that wasn’t the point, it was a matter of lowering a fixed price. For no reason. No added bonus, no offer of anything, tangible or intangible, fungible, or otherwise. Which doesn’t make it much of deal for me.
In fact, all it did was further irritate me on a morning when I didn’t want any more irritants. I’m open to bargaining, especially if there’s a little extra something in there for me. I like striking deals. I’m not so much open to barter anymore simply because I’ve got too much stuff as it is. But I am willing to discuss a simple cash transaction. Yet, what really matters, when I’m getting pitched a deal? What mater is the tone, the way the bargain is being presented.
Make it appealing, make the deal look, or feel, like I’m getting a good deal. Make me want to knock that ten percent off the fixed price. Make it seem like your Taurus self is doing me a favor, and that makes a transaction like this go ever so much more smoothly. In the next couple of days, you’re going to pitch, sell, up-sell, or negotiate a deal. During the process of negotiation, you’re going to want to figure out how to pitch it so that you don’t irritate the other party in the transaction. When I was treated rudely, I just stuck to the original full-retail price. No one likes to pay retail.
Gemini: I was watching the clerk, in a jewelry shop, work with a customer. Customer pointed to something under the glass, on display. Clerk said, "That’s the one I picked for me." I picked up my package, I was getting an older piece of jewelry repaired; I chuckled, paid and left. But I made note of that clerk’s comment. Is that, like, the oldest sales routine in the world? "That’s the one I wanted," or, "Yes, that my favorite."
Which one is my favorite? The one I’m looking at. Yes, we all know how this goes. And what I’m warning you about, is falling for that kind of a line, Or similar line. Or some kind of sales come-on that treats you in similar fashion. It’s where the initial entry point, the first part of the interaction disarms your normally aware and alert Gemini self.
The "energy," to use an out-of-date new-age term, the energy is suddenly ratcheted up a notch. In a good way. But the energy might not be entirely honest. And you might not be entirely frugal. Which is why I’m warning you about that. Which is also, why, even when I’m in a store like that, high-end jewelry, I tend not to shop. It’s not like I can afford what they’re selling, not in the first place. Even if there’s a cute clerk, and even if it is her favorite.
Cancer: I was down at the coast, chatting with a local guy. Discussing tips and techniques. He talked about growing up there. We talked about little sand sharks. "Whole reason we caught fish was to play with the sharks," what he claimed. I’m sure. Although, adolescent males, it’s not a far stretch of the imagination to see coastal kids doing just that. Live life a little on the edge. Better yet, at the purported age, I’ll admit, I was indestructible.
Now then playing in tidal pools and leaning off the bridge that says, "No Fishing," that fine for an adolescent male. But as a dear, sweet Cancer type, the Moon Child, if you will, I’d warn you about breaking rules. Or bending rules, or not even following your parent’s advice. Got it?
There’s a time to play wild and loose with rules, flaunt convention, and generally act as if you were indestructible. Now, with Mar in your sign? Now is not the time to bend, break, or otherwise fail to follow the prescribed instructions. It’s like playing with sharks, you know, someone is bound to get hurt. Probably the Cancer. Mars influence.
Leo: There’s a little cafe, not far from here, and there’s free WiFi, sort of expected. I was in there, grabbing an evening bite, and I was watching some of the other folks in there. I watched as a lady, nicely made-up and business-like was toiling away on a laptop. She was muttering to the computer, too. I’m not sure this is an approved method of communicating, and I never saw a telltale wire or earbud, or Borg-like blue tooth ear-piece. No, she was just quietly shaking her head at something on her computer’s screen. This is a scene, I’m sure we’ve all seen variation on this theme, so it’s a relatively familiar sight. Might have to change the location to trendy coffee shop, or departure lounge, or lobby, or even a park, in some places.
The point is that the computer, I seriously doubt that it can respond to your facial ticks, the sub-vocal urging, the nod of your head, the quiet oaths. I doubt any of that works on the machine. They’re funny like that, they hate to be turned into a human being. Hurts their silicone feelings. While I’ll agree that the machine, the device, or even the person, on the other end of this Leo situation should naturally bow down and perform your intended task, I’m just letting you know, in a polite, Leo-centric way, that those theatrical expressions don’t work on some machines. I’m not saying you can’t try, either. I’m just saying, you’re setting yourself up to be mocked, if you do this in a public place.
Virgo: Saturn is an ugly burden to shoulder, all by your Virgo self. I’m not offering to help ease that burden any, nope, I’m not offering a hand, or shoulder, or any other body part, but I am going to offer up a little pesky advice.
I’ve been through Saturn toil and trouble. I’ve been round and round with Saturn. I’ve fought Saturn and I’ve lost to Saturn. "I fought Saturn and Saturn won," maybe it could be a song. Maybe I could quite trying to be cute, too.
What’s happening is that there is a single issue illuminated by Saturn’s position. This a single area that needs concentrated effort. Sounds a little redundant to suggest that a Virgo work harder, on the area that needs the most work. Here’s the trick, see, you could just as easily be avoiding the cruel Saturn task by claiming that you’re working over here. Or over here. Or wherever, except where you’re supposed to be working. As this week unfolds and as the moon gets really full, watch, that moonlight will show where the real toil is required. Oh yeah, hard work now? I’ll promise, there will be a reward for your efforts.
Libra: I was walking, pedestrian route, through a neighborhood, in a warm March (nominally spring) afternoon. The air was redolent in a heady fragrance, sort of like a woman with too much perfume, only, it wasn’t sickly or over-sweet. I passed a small, traditional front yard fence, and growing up was a thick veil of Morning Glory. Might’ve been Honeysuckle, I’m unsure of what kind of plant is was.
I know it smelled really good. Intoxicating. Sweet, and yet, not over-ripe. Some days, it’s the big things. Some days, a simple hedge full of flowering vine can make all the difference. That’s what turned a sour day into a strong, nice and clean day. Also meant, from that point forward, I had a kind of intoxicated outlook.
There’s something about the way the flowers smell. There’s something about the way spring is in the air, there’s some kind of tangible intangible feeling that indicates, to your finely tuned Libra senses, that the rebirth and regeneration has begun. Yeah, and Aries has started, too, and that’s not without a few little rough points, but still, over-all, the big picture, stop and smell those wonderful morning glory flowers. Honeysuckle. Whatever.
Scorpio: This spring time is a weird one — it is spring in the northern hemisphere — and the weirdness is not dependent on the seasons. There’s a certain kind of light-headed feeling you’ve got, pervasive in Scorpio, and it goes against the usual third-quarter moon feeling. You’re feeling good, but like a true Scorpio, just because you’re feeling good, that doesn’t mean that you don’t think, "Oh, I’m happy, no good will come of this."
I kept getting an image of cartoon character, a perpetual pessimist. Not that Scorpio folks are like this all the time, but in this spring (or spring-like), there’s the quiet voice of reason, the little — supposedly — angelic voice of reason, whispering dire warnings. Ignore that. Plunge ahead. Boldly move forward. Move with a calm assurance that you’re on the side of right. Move with knowledge that the planets are aligned, but only for you. As such, I’d suggest, that little voice of reason? That small, second opinion? I’d suggest that you — sort of — listen to it, too. While I suggested you boldly move forward, and that voice keeps telling you not to. Maybe move forward, secure in the knowledge that you are right. Maybe, though employ a little Scorpio stealth. Never hurts to be wary even if you are right.
Sagittarius: I was overhearing an office worker complain. "I knew if I set my head down on the desk for even a moment, I’d be asleep. Not good. Not good at all." If it had been me? I would’ve put my head down on the desk, and I would’ve gone to sleep. I’ve found that even a ten or twenty minute power nap can bring renewed vigor and strength. Sometimes, too, a short rest will make it so I can see clearly where I couldn’t see a way around the problem, prior to the little rest.
Someplace between "I couldn’t take a nap," and my own, "I needed some shut-eye," there’s a balance point. Like as not, that’s what this next few days are all about It’s matter of finding the rest that you need, when you need it. I’ve found that I can function, for weeks on end, with little rest, maybe just a couple of hours at night. Or in the morning, sometime. But then, I’ve also found that I’ll need to crash for a while. I could go to sleep as the sun was going down, and not wake up until well after the sun had risen — the next day.
Every once in awhile, our body, Sagittarius body — will dictate a clear message. Time for some rest. It will be this week. Grab the rest when you can, things might be busy again in a few weeks.
Capricorn: Shopping day, Hill Country. I was with a friend, and we were cruising along in a little town that was full of market spaces for antiques. How antique, how much was hype? Don’t ask. We wandered through one store, out the back door, and there, under a circus-like awning, there were three flat-bed trailers, with various wares on sale.
I wandered along, picked at a few items then I found some dustbins. Leather trash cans, like for an office, inverted, the leather resonated in the nicest way. Made an excellent drum. I had three of them turned over, and I was banging away like a chimpanzee on a bongo set. One guy, in tow behind his wife or girlfriend, and I’m guessing wife, looks over, smirks, "No more beer, huh?" Girl I was with rolled her eyes, "More like no more wine." Which is an odd comment, but it fit with the place and the times. And her comment might’ve been "No more whine." That area has an abundance of little grape-growing, wine-making places. Not being a drinking man, and actively beating on something, the best comment might’ve been, "No more coffee," but then, that wouldn’t really be the case.
I tried the tin-sided cans, they didn’t sound good. I tried the other ones, wooden, or cardboard, or plastic — I don’t know — and those didn’t resonate at all. But the leather ones did, hence my impromptu, single-serving drum-circle. I was dragged out of there. I was only having fun, but as Mars slips along, think about the fun that you’re having. Is it annoying anyone? Should you cut down on the coffee? Cut back on the beer?
Aquarius: There was a local sign up, place around the corner from me. "Lenten Special, so good you’ll feel guilty." I’m not sure how that plays out. Isn’t Lent (Christian/Catholic season) about giving up something so they can shed the guilt? I never did quite get the symbolism behind the sacrifices.
I suspect it dates to an agrarian society and by the time the spring rolls around, the winter stores are depleted. But that’s just an extemporaneous theory that popped out of my head fully-formed.
Look: this about getting ready. This is about the beginning of the new year. This is about the start to a fresh season — non-hemisphere specific — and this is about a Lenten Special (Aquarius only) that is so good you can enjoy it guilt-free. Not that you’re typically buying all the material about the church and the whole story, no, that’s not entirely your style. You like the myth, though. And better yet, that Lenten Special that is guilt-free? You should enjoy that, practicing Christian or not. It’s the whole "guilt-free" emphasis.
Pisces: In the early spring, mid-March or thereabouts, we get these foggy mornings. I’m sure this is a peculiar weather pattern for this time of the year, at least for some folks, but here, it’s almost normal. Happens frequently enough that I’m used to it. To glance outside the window would reveal a scene that looks like it’s cold. Cold and gray. Relatively speaking, it’s not that bad, it’s just the atmospheric interaction with moisture, and the ambient temperature, and all that science stuff with high pressure, low pressure, and dew point humidity.
I was sitting in a little Tex-Mex diner, not far from here, and the cold, gray clouds formed a continuous, uniform backdrop. Looking out the front pane of the restaurant, I could see the outline of the windows, the trim for the building, but the building itself? It was painted gray. Seemed to disappear into the gray fog of the morning. The wood trim was brightly done in two colors of blue, a turquoise and a lighter shade of blue. That meant the outlines were clearly visible. But against the morning’s apparent fog and uniformly dead-pan sky? The building was just the perfect shade of gray to blend into the Pisces landscape.
