"Yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger;
At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards."
Shakespeare’s A Midsummer-Night’s Dream (III.ii.402-4)
Taurus: I know, it’s your birthday time, and I know, you want to have party, and I know, you deserve only the best. What I was watching, though, in the night sky, as Mars floats overhead, just after dark? Yes, Mr. Mars needs a little of your attention, heed what Mars suggests. It’s about stepping back from that high-profile position, it’s about being a little less visible. It’s about not attracting attention to yourself.
I don’t agree with all the astrology texts, and I tend to synthesize a little, too. That’s why this week’s advice is based primarily upon the action of Mars. But think about it, too, do you really want everyone — especially at work — knowing exactly how old you are? Not so much.
The way it works out, the boss, the employer, the client, whomever holds sway over your day job? Chances are, as next week arrives, that person is getting difficult. Don’t give them any extra ammunition. Don’t suggest, since it is a momentous day, that you get the day off. Just let it all slide. You’ll be happier, later.
Gemini: Did you know pigs were hairy? I didn’t know that, either, and it wasn’t until I was digging through the ice box that I discovered this little-known fact. See, the kind of food that’s good? Shaved ham. I don’t recall buying shaved ham, or shaving ham before, but somehow, that caught my attention. So it’s shaved ham for lunch today. And the little-known fact that pigs are hairy.
Mercury is in Gemini, even now. Mercury is ahead of the game plan, like most Gemini. There’s still a problem, though, and there’s a missing link, a missing point, a missing something. I know what’s really missing is that the sun is still behind, and it’s not Gemini birthday time yet. When this is going on, you can come up with some wonderful ideas, just like me, like the bit about hairy pigs. Or maybe not. But shaved ham is better than regular pork, of that I’m sure.
Cancer: Me, working at one of those metaphysical expo things? I was working next to another reader, runes, or cards, or something, I don’t know, and she had to get up and excuse herself for a moment. She put up a sign, "(Reader’s name) will be right back." She returned, but she didn’t take down the sign right away. We chatted, people walked up, I went to work. She didn’t get any business while her sign was up.
After I pointed it out to her, she giggled, then realized everyone thought she wasn’t here. Or there. Or wherever. Wasn’t in her body, maybe. There’s one, simple, easy change you can make this week, now, even. Take down the "Be Right Back" sign. Cancer has a sign up, a symbol, some sort of place holder or indicator that you’re out of your mind, out-of-body, or just way from the keyboard. You’ve already returned, the difficulty, this week, is that you forgot to take down the sign.
Leo: I was in a motel in West Texas. Early on Sunday morning, preparing to eat breakfast and meet the masses. I stepped into the shower, adjusted the water temperature to my liking, and lathered up. Always want to be clean before I meet and greet. This one place, it used to be a Holiday Inn, but it was no longer under that banner. In good repair, but still, it was a little shabby, just like me, a little frayed around the edges.
I suppose, I’m guessing, it was in the room next to mine, I’m thinking that another guest flushed the toilet, ran the water or started a shower, too. Suddenly, the water in my shower ran hot. Not quite scalding, but very warm. Warmer than I’d like it. I stepped out of the shower, but I didn’t reach to adjust the flow. In a matter of seconds, the water cooled off again, back to what I wanted.
Made me think about Mars and his impact on Leo. There’s going to be a little hot water. How to deal with it? Follow what I did. I didn’t adjust anything, I just let the extra hot water run its course. Simple, easy, and just the adjustment you need to make as Mars starts to heat up the Leo water.
Virgo: I was reading up on a certain kind of fishing, the source was an East Coast, New England area fishing journal. Take a hint: terminology, facts and names might be confused by me. What I read about was a "hi-lo" rig. I think that’s what it is called. Imagine, like, about three feet of fishing line (leader) with two hooks, and then a weight at one end.
In my case, I was using an oblong one-ounce "bank" sinker. What this does, it gets the bait at two levels, one spot is just off the bottom, if that’s where the fish are, and the second, is like, maybe, a foot up from that first hook. Does it work? Yes. I haven’t seen many catfish guys use this, or, for that matter, other local fishermen using such an arrangement, but then, maybe I haven’t been looking too closely.
Mine was an experiment, a trial, just to see if it works. It did. Well, after fashion, anyway. Mars is hitting Leo. Time to shake up the established order, if only for a little bit. Do something different. Do something differently. Do it weird. Borrow from someplace distant. See if there’s a change-up in gear or new set-up that might work. Might work differently. The idea is that it’s time to change the pace, and borrowing techniques from foreign lands is always a plan. Give it a Virgo spin, see what happens.
Libra: Granted, every relationship has issues. It all depends on how you deal with these issues, that determines one’s humanity. I figure, as long as the Sun is in Taurus, the relationship "stuff" is coming up. This isn’t always bad, either. Can be good. A friend from the days of yore pops up; an email or letter shows up, unbidden.
It might not be such a bad deal. It could be a pleasant kind of interaction. But there is an issue that needs to resolved, in one manner or another.
I ran into a Libra friend, the other day. Changes, most of them for the better, were occurring. It’s a matter of stepping out of the way, and letting the good stuff flow around — and to a certain extent, envelope your Libra self. Some days are fraught with struggle and angst-ridden defeat. Other weeks, like now, see, there’s less trouble on the personal front. Sure, there’s an issue to work on, but it can be resolved. Use that touchstone to establish a common area, work from there.
Scorpio: Festival food. It’s at once, scary and appetizing. Scary because of the questionable health practices of the food, its preparers, its source, and the general sanitation of the festival. Appetizing because Mars is headed towards Leo.
My personal favorite was "fried meat on a stick." This is South Texas. The fried meat on a stick, supposedly a beef product, was tasty in the way it was prepared. I don’t know what animal it was to begin with, or if it was even animal at all, just some sort of textured vegetable protein; although, there was a little piece of grizzle, sort of hard to fake that. But good. It was really good. And, being in South Texas, there was a jalapeño on the end of the spear. Meat on stick crowned with a lightly roasted pepper, just enough fire to make it all interesting.
But how daring are you? "Oh man, festival foods, funnel cakes, mystery meats, yeah, I love it!" Gorge yourself and then feel ill afterwards? That’s the idea. And that’s what this week holds, some adventure, maybe some kind of mystery meat, all depends, and then, perhaps, too much cotton candy? One too many funnel cakes? Indian Fry Bread? Powdered sugar coating greasy dough? Which one is it? Eat until you’re ill, and say that was fun? Me? I love the various kinds of road food. It’s not really that much different from some places I’ve dined before. The last of Mars in Cancer is the fun part, the eating the food. When Mars hits Leo? Might have an upset stomach. "But how do you know it was good unless it makes you sick?"
Sagittarius: I’m presently living close to a railroad crossing. No big deal, I got used to the train running through at odd hours. There’s also a curious effect of the railroad crossing arms dropping down, sometimes for no apparent reason, and getting stuck in a line cars behind those downed crossing arms.
It’s really easy to circumvent the obstacle. There’s a problem, too, and although I haven’t witnessed this myself, I can easily guess. See, and not that I would do this myself, but it’s easy — when, clearly, there is no train on the tracks — to go around the arms. Just a quick "S" turn maneuver, and you’re gone from the obstacle. But there’s a couple of problems with this kind of way around an obstacle, one is fatal mistake, like, following someone through this, around the gates, only to discover that there really was a train coming. Bad move.
Then, too, the actual act of circumventing the crossing guard is illegal. Sometimes, the arms drop down for no apparent reason. Maybe just a maintenance check. Maybe, there’s a high-speed train approaching. Maybe, as a Sagittarius, we should respect the crossing guard’s arms, even if we can’t see a thing. Sure, it’s fun to bend the law and bend around the crossing guard, but is it really safe? Maybe not this week.
Capricorn: I was at a coffee drive-thru place. Early, early one morning, on my way to a fishing hole. I ordered a large, triple-shot, non-fat cappuccino. Triple non-fat cap. The speaker box squawked about muffins or something, and I recited back, my order, then I quoted a price, "$3.92." Close, but it was really $4.05. Ouch. I dug around for the extra nickel, determined not get $0.95 in change, and determined to leave a single dollar for a tip.
Part of this is about tithing, and I consider anyone who works in a low-pay position, if they are friendly, banter well, or, at least, tell me what sign they are? Those people are worthy of a generous tip. I needed caffeine that morning, and it was a drive-thru window, and coffee — go juice — is coffee. The price seemed a little ridiculous, since I’d ordered the same thing — exactly — across town, a just a few days before. Price over there was $3.92, and I don’t know why there was a difference. Maybe I’ll never know.
You know the chain, you know the product, and at 6 in the morning, you know why I was there. It’s all about the fishing. So if it’s all about the fishing, why was I worried about the price of coffee? I wasn’t, really, but it does indicate a problem with uniform price structures, and how that can change, from location to location. What you’re expecting is equal cost factor, across the road, across town, or even in a different state. Might be a problem, and with Jupiter doing what he’s doing? Prices go up, go down, go sideways. There’s some kind of internal logic that makes no sense to us. You can spend a lot of time trying to figure it out, or, you can just be prepared. Be prepared for an increase, a decrease, an adjustment, but that one thing that is supposed to be the same? It’s not.
Aquarius: I was watching a TV show about fishing. When I’m traveling, late at night, I can usually find one fishing show. This one was about salt water experiences, and it included the host interviewing a salt Aquarist. I never knew there was such a title. When I first heard it, I thought the person was introducing herself with her sign, "Aquarius," and it wasn’t until the title bar ran, then I noticed the spelling. A professional aquarium keeper, I think, I mean, I’ll suppose that’s what the job was. Which would be perfect for an Aquarius, rather than Marine Biologist.
I know it might seem like a stretch, going from a fishing guide to a marine naturalist, but on that show, it worked. In many of the places where I fish, I observe structured game laws, no fish smaller than a certain size maybe retained, and no fish larger than certain size maybe kept. As such, us fishing guys have to listen to what the ocean botanists have to say about the fish. The scientists aren’t really that far from what we do, either, we just add the sport of hook, line & pole to the observation. Occasionally, blackened, grilled or fried, too.
It’s all about working together, instead of working separately. As people tend to fragment, watch. There’s a chance, an opportunity to drag several disparate groups together. Turns out, like that sea zoologist, fishermen and naturalists have a lot in common.
Pisces: "Oh no. No, no you’re not." It was one of my neighbors, a vaguely Hispanic gentlemen, and he was looking at me as I was walking out the door. I had, maybe, five or six fishing poles, all broken down and bound together, and over one shoulder, I had a tackle bag plus a small cooler. I tend to freeze a water bottle or two, and pack that around a can of coke and more bottled water when I’m going to fish.
It was a weekday, and he was headed out, too. To work. He was plainly upset that I was going to a favorite fishing hole when the rest of the known world was working. Bright, spring-like morning. Perhaps there was dew on the little, delicate blades of grass, shimmering in the coolness of the early morning. Maybe there was an almost shiver due to the freshness of the day. Or maybe, it was, like, going to get hot later that day, I was going to be by the side of a river, line in the water, and it was all going to be bad. But I doubt that, as a bad day while fishing is better than a good day at work.
Although that guy, he calls himself a Mexican, so I’m not stepping on any ethnic toes, he isn’t a Pisces, he caught the perfect Pisces comment, the perfect tone, the perfect sentiment for the way you’re going to feel. You take one look at another person, heading in a different direction, and you’re going to find yourself using that same, "Oh no. No, no you’re not." The tone is one that is obviously a mocking tone. Merriment, even. Perhaps a little envy. That’s all okay. Doesn’t matter, your day, your time, will happen soon enough. Maybe not in the next few days, but at least, we will all know how you feel about it.
Aries: "Hey," I’m not saying it was a person of extreme northern ancestry speaking, but it does sound like a Yankee, "is there pork in this smoked ham?" He pointed at the menu item in a BBQ place. I don’t know how she pulled it off, being an Aries and all, but the little waitress, with complete deadpan delivery, "Yes sir, there is pork in our ham."
Maybe she was fishing for a better tip, although, from what I’ve heard, Yankee type are notoriously tight. Me and my dining companion, we didn’t giggle overtly. I just took out a piece of paper and made note, of the question, and then, the perfectly dry Aries response.
As Mars shifts signs, like he is, as he goes from Cancer to Leo, it’s time to try that arid verbal delivery. Either that, or pretend that you miss the comment. Make believe you don’t get it. It’s a bit of stretch, but remember, to the person asking the question, it’s perfectly all right. It’s a fair question. It’s a reasonable remark. So the trick to dealing with this coming week, as Mr. Mars shifts his gears, is to air that arid verbal response. Dry delivery. You can do it. Just answer the question, no matter how inane it might seem.
