Fishing Guide to the Stars
By Kramer Wetzel
For the week starting: 7.30.2009
"Your affections are
A sick man’s appetite."
Shakespeare’s Coriolanus [I.i.76-7]
As noted in the travel and appearances schedule, I will not be in Austin for the August 22-23 event. Scheduling conflict with El Paso, and the guest shot on Wife Swap – haven’t mastered being in two places at once. However, other arrangements can be made.
Leo: One of my fishing buddies, as we would get close to where I lived at the time, he would always admonish, "Get ready to tuck and roll, buddy." Which is what I was thinking of, the words, the command form, for Leo, when I looked at your chart. Except, it’s not in the same vein, that my buddy meant it, close, but not quite. He was usually getting ready to push me out of the truck’s cab while we were towing a boat, and we’d be tired from fishing our little hearts out, all day long. Part jest, part serious, because, after all, he was towing a boat.
I got off thinking about this as I watched while Venus leaves Gemini and scoots on into Cancer, getting closer to Leo. Full Moon, too. All of it. The Leo, you are THE Leo, has to be light on his (or her) feet. Paws. Get ready to run a dodge pattern. Get ready to tuck and roll, part of a birthday pattern, then spring back up.
ASTROFISH.NET: Drive-Thru Horoscopes!
Virgo: I have a weird fishing arrangement that’s been particularly effective lately. It’s an "ultra-light" set-up, only, with most of the ultra-lights, the pole is about four feet long. This one? I’ve got an eight-foot Crappie pole (B&M), but the rest of the arrangement qualifies as "ultra-light." Makes it a lot more fun when I hook into a fish, big, or, for that matter, small. Makes it easier and the whole thing is super-sensitive. Kind of like Virgo with this approaching full moon and all. Super-sensitive.
Which, for this kind of fishing, I mean, I use it for one situation only, it works great. So there’s a correct application of your super-sensitive status. Find that one situation and work with it. To me, that arrangement I’ve got? I use that like fly-fishing, only, with a little more backbone. Same thing I’d expect out of a Virgo. Super-sensitive, and yet, strong enough to haul in the big fish. Which is what this is really all about, and it doesn’t matter what you’re angling for, either.
Libra: It’s the way the green algae covered the surface of the river. Dog days of summer, a few weeks ago. The river was stagnant, and there was a serious algae bloom. The way the stuff grow on the surface, like mold, and the way it appeared? Looked like sculptured shag from an era gone by. I wasn’t about to set foot in that soggy mass, and while it was eating all the oxygen and and causing the water to become unbreathable for the fish? It still looked nice. In a weird way. Like a carpeted river. Or creek.
A carpeted river would be perfect for that Libra sense of aesthetics. However, in this case, the algae bloom was due to a river that was stopped at both ends, without a lot of flow in between. Which was the problem, then. As of this week, it’s as if someone has magically let the water start flowing again. While I’d like to take credit as the guy who worked the flood gates in the life of Libra, I can’t really take that credit. However, I can suggest that, now that there’s movement, you do something to take advantage of that. The current is strong and getting stronger. Use it. Don’t fight it.
Scorpio: It’s a dessert issue. The part of the meal that’s usually sweet, comes after the main course, but before the coffee, cigars and cognac? I’ve had this kind of a promise before, and it wasn’t until I bravely tried the dessert at this one place, local place, that I found it was as good as they said it could be.
I’ve been let down a number of times with pancake (crepe), caramel, ice cream, and stuff kind of dessert. Several place have advertised, one restaurant had rather provocative and enticing menu pictureand evocatibe image, but alas, the dessert didn’t live up to the image or the billing. However, this one place, kind of seedy? Not exactly the best looking place on the block? Not as well lit? Maybe wouldn’t go after dark? Or, in my case, not too long after dark? That’s the spot. Turns out, the dessert was as good as they said, Not only did it live up to it’s billing, it fulfilled the wish of many years, it was that good.
As the stars keep rolling, and life keeps on moving along in Scorpio, I can’t promise that every day will be good. But one day, out of the next seven, you’re going to hit that spot, like the dessert that I’d be searching for? Not only does it live up to its purported reputation? It exceeds expectations. One out of seven, this week.
Sagittarius: I was watching, as one of my neighbors, a shapely blonde with carved, muscled calves, she opened up the front passenger door on her car. Leaned in, and she picked up a watermelon. Carried it inside. She had on earphones so any comment from me wouldn’t be heard. Nor, for that matter, do I know her well enough to make such a comment, but what I thought? "Hey, nice melon." I didn’t say it.
With the approach of the full moon, then the tangible insanity that comes with the full moon? As the tides shift and the moon start to wax? Don’t wax poetic. Don’t make a comment, puerile and vaguely sexists, like I was.
You can be like me, you can think such thing, but you can’t say them. Well, you can say them, but there might/will be less than desired consequences, like a metaphorical slap in the face to a physical assault, or it could go so far as a lawsuit. None of that is desirable. Can easily be avoided, too. Shut up. Think it? Sure, way we’re wired, our Sagittarius selves, about two paces away from the gutter, generally erring on the side of bad taste. But just this once? Instead of giving it voice? Just think it.
Capricorn: I took a long afternoon walk, perhaps a little longer than I wanted. I returned a couple of mobile phone calls. I was chatting amiably with one client and I noticed that dark clouds were scudding overhead. Coastal weather, or coastal clouds, or whatever, it’s sea breezes, offshore, billowing much-needed moisture inland. Only, since I was out longer than I thought, it looked like, if I skipped the post office portion of the trip, I could make it home dry.
Only, me, being who I am, I couldn’t skip stopping by the post office and I was chatting away, when the first of the big rain drops hit me. It wasn’t much of a rain storm, just a little sideways action. By the time I got home, I was wet on one side, but dry on the other. Phone was safe, mail was soaked. All junk mail anyway.
This is about choices and decisions in the Capricorn world. Me? Soaked by a summer’s shower? No big deal, almost enjoyed it, no damage, other than my wash and wear look got washed an extra time. All about how you decide to deal with what’s up ahead. It’s like a summer squall. Duck into the post office, and loiter? Sure, that’s an option, although, maybe not for me, not at that post office, I might get in trouble for lurking in there. But you’re Capricorn. You’ve got a chance to make a clean getaway, or escape getting soaked. When the weather is turning against you? Maybe skip that last spurious stop. Get on home ahead of the storm.
Aquarius: In case you haven’t ever figured it out, coffee varies from bean to bean as to strength. I’m sure that it’s possible to chemically analyze each and every coffee bean to determine just the exact amount of active ingredients in each and every cup of coffee, but I’d rather not. I know that there’s a "naturally low in caffeine" bean from the central highland of Mexico.
I know that another strain of bean that produces substantially higher caffeine content than most. But I never measured it myself, and part of the equation is the roaster’s craft, too. The full moon, that unfolds in Aquarius, like in the next five days or so? That’s like switching from the naturally low in caffeine stuff to higher octant coffee. Sometimes it’s subtle, like you don’t realize that you’re suddenly infused with more energy, and more drive, and other times? Less subtle. From almost supine and dormant to wide-awake and almost too alert, in a matter of minutes. That’s noticeable.
The full moon will be like that extra-strong coffee. Whether it’s subtle or quick, though, now that you know it is coming? You can make a choice. I’d suggest the subtle approach, but that just might be me.
Pisces: I was chatting with a local cook. Client, actually, but it was off the clock, sort of, as I just been to eat at the place where the cook worked. I was noting how the food, a certain steak dish, had been just a wonderful experience, the flavor, texture, and that something special (that I couldn’t identify) aura. I made a passing comment about the influence of Uranus (in Pisces) and more to the point, Saturn (opposite Pisces in Virgo), and how this was having an impact on that cook. Which meant I got the secret ingredient.
"It’s Dr. Pepper. Dr. Pepper flank steak, figure it out." So that’s the secret stuff that works so well. That’s the ingredient that is so secret. Plain old coke from a bottle, with all its sugary goodness. Dr. Pepper is a Texas original, too, which might explain the flavor that’s different. I grew up in the shadow of a Dr. Pepper plant, which might explain some things about me, but this isn’t about me, this is about secrets, and revealing just enough. With the full moon fast approaching? You get a chance to reveal something. Need I point out, though, that I got the name of the secret ingredient — Dr. Pepper — I never got the rest of the recipe. Follow my Pisces cook’s lead on this: reveal enough, but not too much.
Aries: The first time it happened, I was devastated. The second time, I was hurt, but not too distraught. The third time? I just shrugged, hit the "rewind" button, then started over.
It was a software error, a glitch, a problem in the way I clicked with the mouse thing or the way I hit the keyboard, or something, who knows? And by the third time? Who cares. I lost, last time the software "blew up," I lost, maybe part of a horoscope I’d written, not that much as I tend to save every time I walk away from the keyboard or when I hit a natural stopping point. Like after every (full stop). One time, I lost a whole article, but I was able to recreate the text fairly well. One time I lost almost a month’s worth of accounting material.
I’ve gotten a little more careful and what with automated backup utilities, it’s almost fool-proof. Never underestimate the arrogance of the fool, though, and never assume that something foolproof is really foolproof. We keep coming up with better and better idiots.
That’s the lesson, the fail-safe, the automated backup, the foolproof (something) that isn’t so? Good chance you’ll hit it this week. The real question is how you choose to react.
Taurus: I was listening to some local musician, probably categorized as "country and western," which begs a joke I’ll avoid. As I was listening to the song, I had to wonder, it was story, a tale, about a sad, sad situation. And what I was wondering? Just how was that singer singing with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek? It had to be tongue in cheek, right? No one would really stand for that kind of action and reaction, not what was described in that song, no, no real person would tolerate that kind of behavior.
So I had to wonder, whether this was a humorous — and sad — song, or was is just a funny song, with sad frame around it? Was the singer genuinely sad or was it really that bad? There comes a moment in the song, and it’s either laugh or cry. To this day, me, I’m vastly amused by the song, or a similar kind of song because I see that it’s over-the-top, hyperbole, if you will, and I will, and as such?
It’s got to be humor. No one can sing a song that sad for that long, and really believe all that bad stuff happening. Got to be humor. But then, that’s also the way I’m wired, and that’s how I see it. So we’ve got a situation, much like that song, and you’re unsure of how to handle it. Appear straight-faced, but, in an allegorical way? Keep your Taurus tongue firmly planted in your cheek.
Gemini: The inter-web is a pretty cool way to waste time. Or useful research, although, on some days, I’m not sure I can tell the difference. Research, wasting hours looking up names, places, translations, apocrypha, just about every little fact, real or imagined, it’s out there.
Someone has a website, or a portion of a website, dedicated to — insert something here. List me as a fan. Regrettably, it’s made it impossible to run trivia questions for door prizes here because answers, or purported answers, are as easy as typing the question.
Sort of takes the fun out of it, an if it’s not fun, then I’m not interested. However, that’s a cautionary tale in two parts for my Gemini friends.
One: if it’s not fun? Then maybe you’re not as interested as you thought (Aquarius influence).
Two: research or procrastination? (Aquarius influence). You get to decide, but I’d be a little careful about research that winds up being more like a curious romp on the inter-tubes rather than an actual fact-finding mission. Which it was, when you started.
Cancer: There’s a Venus ingress this week, but other than that? Not a lot of real activity. Hot Mars is behind in airy Gemini while the Sun is roasting along in Leo. Doesn’t leave a lot left over for the gentle Cancer influences. But that’s where we start.
It’s a matter of utilizing those influences, finding the right avenue to let that planet (Sun’s a star, so it could be argued starry) influence work for you.
Stuck.
In.
The.
Middle.
You’re stuck in between two objects that are roasting away in their comparative locations. Here in Cancer? Cool as can be. I was out, by the side of a lake, the other afternoon, just sweating and moaning about the local heat. I imagine Cancer is kind of like that, only, you don’t have to complain. Focus your attention outside of your current location. Drawing your attention away from the present surrounding helps you escape that heat which seems to be on either side.
