"Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
Shakespeare’s A Midsummer-Night’s Dream (V.i.39-41)
Taurus: I tend to make friends, or, at the very least, become acquainted with all the folks who are responsible for my coffee habits. So this was a Taurus girl, birthday times are happening, and she was frothing the milk for what was my usual: two shots of espresso with a tiny dollop of foam on top. Call it what you want. "Macchiato" is the term I hear most frequently.
I was watching casually appraising my surroundings and saying something nice about Taurus, I’m sure. Very sensual sign, you know, and suddenly, the little Taurus says a few rather well-chosen words. Or maybe not so well-chosen, but choice expletives. Call it how you like it. "Look," she continued, "you made me forget what I was doing and I over-frothed the milk. Don’t distract me." She smiled. I felt a pang of guilt. But in a few moments, I had a paper cup with my preferred beverage, and I was wandering along the river.
As I toyed with the Taurus chart, I thought about that exchange of words, the cursing, and the distraction that I was posing. Be careful, especially when you’re handling hot stuff, pay attention. Distractions? There are plenty. The way to keep your head in the game, the way to stay on top of what matters, the whole point to the this week’s message: don’t get distracted.
Gemini: There are two strains of black bass, Micropterus salmoides salmoides and Micropterus salmoides floridanus. I’d like to think about it as Northern Bass and Southern Bass. Northern and Florida, and guess which one is usually bigger? The southern variant.
As I understand it, and I might have this wrong, telling the difference between the northern and southern strains requires DNA analysis. Which might be easy on TV, but I’m not so sure it’s something that I can do in a bass boat. Not that I’m too worried about what kind of fish I’m catching, either, just a curiosity. Black Bass are prized for their sporting characteristics, a willingness to fight, a crafty nature, and healthy constitution. I’ve seen more than one black bass with a number of scars from getting hooked and fighting.
Since I can’t really tel the differnce between the two strains, and neither can your Gemini self, I’m not sure that I would be concerned with minute details like which genetic variation you’re dealing with. Northern or Southern? Does it really matter?
Cancer: It was a sticker on small (foreign name) brand of car, an ultra-sub-compact. The sticker said, "100% COWBOY." I, personally, have a problem with that. The sticker, the car, all of it. Unless, of course this was meant as an ironic expression. I don’t have a problem with either small cars or cowboys, neither one, separately. It’s just that, taken together, it offends my delicate, innate sense about what should and shouldn’t be.
Cowboy vehicles are trucks. Trucks with beds that haul hay and saddles, other tools, too. One truck bed had the coolest rod-holder — just back that truck bed up the beach, and you’re set for surf fishing. Again, these are trucks. Small cars, particularly for long distance driving, although not the most comfortable, they do get excellent mileage. But the image is one of smooth and urban individuals, not cowboys.
Mars is about to leave Cancer, and that’s still brining up interesting points. I’m not afraid to talk about the display of messages, like bumper stickers, in print. Don’t corner me in person though, as my tune might change. I doubt you’ll be offended by a bumper sticker that seems way out of place on the vehicle it’s on, but there will similar kind of Cancer ire raised over an issue. Is it really that big of deal, or are you , like me, making something out to be more than it really is?
Leo: We rolled over a small highway bridge, the sign read, "Frog Pond Creek." A little later, we passed another small highway bridge, not much more than a culvert with water flowing through it, "Dry Creek." The weather varies in portions of the hill country, west of here. Some spots can get rain and be soaked while other places are dry as a bone. The Frog Pond Creek was dry, which means, I’d guess, there were some dry frogs. The Dry Creek was flowing, which means, I guess, the frogs moved over there.
Depending on what kind of impound the Frog Pond had, though, it could still be wet, although, it was pretty obvious that there wasn’t any water flowing in at that moment. Which is kind of what it feel like in with my most excellent Leo friend. No water flowing into the pond. That doesn’t mean that there is no water, it all depends on what you put away for a rainy day. Except, in my example, it isn’t about rain, it’s about not raining. So I guess it would be more along the lines of what you put away for the drought.
Did you stock up the stock tank? Did you fill the pond? Did you build a small damn, or some other kind of impound to save for the day when the rain was falling two counties over, just not in your Leo backyard? I don’t think this drought will last long, and I don’t think the frogs will move away, but if you didn’t save, might be a little tough for the next couple of days.
Virgo: For years, at a particular spot on the Texas Gulf Coast, there was a mock-up of the original "Christopher Columbus" ship. Tiny, almost like a toy, with its all wood-construction, and three little square-rigged sailing masts. Not much of a boat. I mean, in terms of the island ferry, even, or the larger off-shore fishing boats, no, the little (full-size) replica wasn’t very awe-inspiring. Only, in a weird way, it was inspirational.
Consider that a crew of men left on that same size of ship, and they navigated the Atlantic, maybe through a storm or two, and finally stopped in the Caribbean. More impressive, now. The old fashioned sailing vessels weren’t really that large. Not very big at all, yet, they did have a huge impact. I wouldn’t know about this except that I’ve seen that replica moored up, down there, time and again, year in and year out. Sort of cross between a floating museum, and floating curiosity.
The idea I’d like to float past you, too, is about dealing with insurmountable odds. Doing the impossible, Tackling tasks that no one thinks can be done. Which is why I was thinking about that intrepid explorer, maybe more foolish to some, but still, as he set out in the boats. Little boats. Not very big, and they did cross the ocean. See? It can be done, and I’m counting on what seems like an impossible task to be done by Virgo. This week? Start the journey (again).
Libra: There are two cycles I pay attention to, one is Mars in another Cardinal sign and the second is the phase of the Moon. Combining these two planet phases, I just have to wonder, is this about work? I kept thinking this was a career option. Maybe not a big career move, but a substantial gain, a chance, an opportunity, there’s an opening, and you should exploit it.
Take this as a hint, this week, and early next week, position yourself, your Libra self, to grab at the brass ring as it goes by. Strictly speaking, in that analogy, the brass ring is stationary and the merry-go-round is the moving element, but like that analogy, it feels like the ring you’re reaching for? It feels like it’s moving. Do you have a chance to get it? Yes. There is a big prize, if you only make an attempt. Early next week, no, for real, take a chance and gamble with grabbing the brass ring.
Scorpio: When the Sun moves through Taurus, like now, and Venus moves through Taurus, like now, there’s a suggestion that you tend to be a little over the top. Over the top with purchasing power, over the top with acquisitions, self-indulgent with pampering, and maybe, you let yourself slide a little too far.
No one ever seems to give a good Scorpio a break. Personally, I would. But not right now. See, you’re inclined to be a little easy, a little too little self-restraint. I’m not saying that you don’t deserve the rewards and the fruits of your labors, but I’m suggesting, just as a test theory, we put off those rewards for a little while. Maybe a week, maybe just a little longer, sort of depends on where the planets are in your chart.
But as a general guideline, not really a rule, just as a guideline, just because it feels good? That doesn’t mean that this is a good time to do it. It’s the lack of normal Scorpio good sense that seems to be the problem. And it’s not much of a problem, not really, I’m just suggesting a little bit more than you would normally employ. That means, just a little bit of watching it — it’s about consumption. We both agree that you deserve it, I’m just saying, well, maybe I’m not saying, but a little denial goes a long way.
Sagittarius: I go through periods in my life where I chew a lot of gum. Sort of a cyclical action, and I’ve gotten to where I prefer a sugarless, no additives, bubble-gum flavored chew. Just sort of a habit that I indulge from time to time. I make an effort, when I spit the used gum out, to make sure that it doesn’t land in a crosswalk, or on the sidewalk, or on pedestrian way of any shape, manner or form.
I got payback, gum-karma as it were, the other day. I was walking home from the post office, and I stepped on something that wouldn’t come off. Blue bubble gum of some variation or other. I’m not sure what. I left the sandals outside, let the gum harden, and I walked it off the next day. Didn’t bother me too much. I just figured, sooner or later, I spit some gum out someplace, it landed where someone else trod on it, and I was getting my karmic retribution. One must accept the rules of the road, as it were.
Gum karma made me think about our Sagittarius selves. Before this weekend is up, I’m suggesting that we will face just such a sticky proposition. The solution, that sort of depends, though, given the Sagittarius flair for drama, it could turn into a big, hairy deal. Or, you know, we can just leave our shoes at the front door for the time being. Might be a better, albeit less dramatic, of a solution.
Capricorn: This is a great day, great week, anyway, or, at least, it’s pretty good. There’s a strong hint, almost like a flavor, that’s wafting along on the breeze. When the wind is out of the south, or maybe, when it’s out of the north, I can get a hint of a Mexican Panaderia, hard at work. There’s the smell of baked goodies, usually redolent with cinnamon and strong vanilla, along with the usual refined white sugar.
All of that from a single fragrance, a delicate aroma that I can just barely catch a whiff of. It’s not strong, yet it is. The planetary hint, it’s not strong, yet it is. Like that scent of the Mexican — or Hispanic — or Latino — or whatever you want to call it, there’s a gentle yet pungent push in one direction. Take heed of that direction.
You can argue with the muse, but it’s been my experience, the muse usually wins. I draw inspiration from native environments, and on a spring day, right after Fiesta, I can still smell the fried and baked goodness from one of the nearby bakeries. It’s a Capricorn influence, too, good yet reminiscent of work.
Aquarius: It’s the first of May. I live in South Texas, maybe the northern extreme of South Texas, but I still have to think of this is South Texas, now. Walking around downtown San Antonio, one afternoon, I caught sight of a brightly colored skirt, a traditional Mexican pattern, and more to the point, the uniform of the waitresses at Mi Tierra. Downtown, seems right that waitress would be out, wandering around, after the noon rush. So the uniform wasn’t out of place. It could look like just colorful attire, too, but then, when she turned to follow the same sidewalk I was on, it was obvious with the branded logo on the front of the apron.
I’m not sure where she was going, maybe just looking for a bus. I do know, that if she followed me, I would’ve given her pause since I was reacting like an Aquarius at the time. My route was circular, at best, and maybe a little convoluted, too. I crossed one street, back and forth, several times. For a little while, I was worried that I was being observed and followed by the waitress in the bright dress, which is green, red and white. And if that was the case, I’d look stupid. But I’m not stupid, it’s just that there were a number of interesting tidbits, along my route, and each item needed to be examined. One side had a taco stand, another had a placard for a fruit cups, then a hot dog vendor, then a place with frozen things. I’m not sure what they were.
As an Aquarius, you understand the circuitous route. As an outside observer, though, we might look a little crazy. Not that it matters, but as this few days unfold, consider that you do have errands that are best if you do them alone.
Pisces: A friend was checking on a friend, to buy that person a T-Shirt. My buddy rang off the phone, "Can you believe that? She wants a small." Which led to an engaging discussion about how women pick sizes and that, due to her ample size, we seriously doubted that she could squeeze into a small. Unless she was going for a really tight fit to show off her assets, and seeing as how this was a buddy’s sister, we didn’t really want to discuss such items.
I’m no prude, but I thought, at the very least a medium would’ve been far more appropriate. But I wasn’t consulted. There is a time and place to make scintillating observations. There is a time and place where silence is worth about a hundred dollars a minute. I opted for silence. I did note that, off the record, that the Pisces in question really shouldn’t be wearing a small, but I amended that statement by saying I wasn’t about to suggest it, either. Not my place, and frankly, it if helps preserve harmony, I won’t bring it up. Ever.
Take a note from my little interchange and exchange of verbal interplay: sometimes, when silence is worth about a hundred dollars a minute, then it’s a good time to shut up. Saved me a lot of trouble, I mean, can you imagine what sort of angst would’ve been unleashed if I had mentioned the shirt size being a medium?
Aries: Old Mason Road? Old Dallas road? Old Austin Highway? These are all signs I’ve seen recently and they advertise a historical link. Or the way the highway used to run when compared with the way the routes are laid out now. It’s a common naming convention here. I’m not sure if it is so common elsewhere, but I’m sure, look around, there’s bound to be some similar namesake.
This is about seeing, recognizing and dealing with a past issue. Something pops up and you need to admit that it is there. Like that street sign, highway sign, or the marker for the old road. The older routes tended to hug the contours of the terrain a little more closely, and the former roads tend to look for the most auspicious point to cross a waterway. The more modern routes just plow right through hills and span large chasms with equal ease. All a matter of form.
The "old" (something) road isn’t always the most direct route, but it does tend to be the more scenic way, and, for that matter, especially with old wagon roads, the "old" road is more friendly in its approach to the terrain. Sometimes, "modern" isn’t better. You can speed by on the interstate highway; however, you might miss the most important element in the message. Or the issue. Something that needed clearing up.
