“He that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability ad god-like reason
To fust in is unus’d.”
Shakespeare’s Hamlet [IV.iv.41-4]
As we celebrate the birthday of our country…
Cancer: Happy Birthday, Cancer! It’s going to be a weird year. Weirder than last year? And is that weird “good” or weird “disaster”? I’m “Mr. Every-Cloud-Has-A-Silver-Lining.” So this weirdness, good or bad? How are you going to play what’s been dealt to you? Carefully, and with a little coaching, guidance, and maybe, a little uncharacteristic action? Might be good. Potentially very good.
Full Moon is way over, and we don’t have that new moon for another few days. We’re stuck in the middle. Reservoir Dogs allusion here. At least one Cancer will recoil in horror at that mention. I liked the movie but I wouldn’t necessarily watch it again and again. That’s not what this about, though, it’s about taking appropriate action to change one item, one particular aspect, just a single change. I’m not suggesting wholesale change and a scorched earth, no, just one, tiny, almost insignificant item that can be changed.
One. Little. Change.
Probably something you should’ve done a while back, too. Take the big step, it’s your birthday, I’d suggest, with all the parties and stuff? Go ahead. Take the big plunge. Or the little step. Whatever that one item is? Change it. Willingly. Even if it scares you.
Leo: I was in a restaurant, kind of an upscale place. I noticed another patron, next table over. She had a vibrant “sun” tattoo, above her ankle, outside of her leg.
She caught me looking at the tattoo and arched her eyebrows — I assumed it was a quizzical look — and I just asked, “Leo?” She glanced downward, looked back at me, batted her eyes, then nodded.
Leo girls are so easy. No, not “easy,” well, yes, they are that, too, no this is about being easy to detect and compliment. Besides, an obvious clue like the Sun as a tattoo, the only more evident ink I’ve seen is a lion. Should be a Lion King.
Especially this next week? As a Leo? You make a rotten poker player. Bluff or do you really hold a good hand? If life is like a poker game, and you’re bluffing? You’ll give it away. You have many fine qualities. Lying isn’t one. No bluffing. Blushing is fine; compliments ring true.
Virgo: I was with a couple of friends and we were headed home. Think it was a trip to Houston. Anyway, the Interstate is wide, smooth, and relatively open on an afternoon. Off in the distance, there was a huge cloud of white smoke. As we got closer, it was obvious that there was a fire, and it looked, as we drew even closer, like the fire was on the highway. It wasn’t. Not quite, but almost: the right-of-way caught fire.
I’d guess it was a casual cigarette butt tossed out a window, but I don’t know. The dry conditions and tinder-box grown ground made for hasty combustion. The flames licked the edge of the highway; although, the fire wasn’t wide, it was hot. We sailed right on through the smoke, at first, slowing down, but not stopping. It was only after we passed the first wave of flames then we could feel it in an air conditioned truck, only then did the enormity of the problem become clear. The smoke, it wasn’t black smoke, just a flash grass fire and the stubble was recently cut, so there wasn’t much fuel. But there was smoke, and it got denser after we passed the wall of flame.
Almost brought us to a complete stop. If I was driving, I would’ve just stopped. And stopping would’ve risked a rear-end collision with someone too foolish to stop. We made it through okay, though. Part of that was a guardian angel, I’m sure. That driver has one. However, part of it was because we slowed down. As you hit a hazard? Slow it down. Maybe be prepared to stop.
Libra: Thankfully, there’s usually a little local precipitation right around the July 4th weekend. Not always, but for years, it was always damp. That lead me to a discovery that the average raindrop falls at (about) seven miles an hour. Useless trivia.
Unless you’ve seen our version of rain. It’s also a kind of rain that’s not localized, well, it is, as I’ve only witnessed this in the American Southwest, but I’ve been led to understand that it does occur elsewhere. Remember that average raindrop speed? Seems that we get this stuff, not too many raindrops, and the ones that do fall? Seems like they are heavier. Moving at more like 10 to 14 miles an hour.
Larger, more powerful, and yet, fewer and further between. Big drops, far apart. Seem to fall faster and sting more when they land, yet there seems to be fewer. Larger, more impact yet fewer. Give you any ideas on how to handle this week’s energy?
Scorpio: Surf fishing is one of those activities I’ve never gotten really proficient at. Requires a different set of skills than what I’ve got. I understand the idea, and I understand the concepts well enough that I could tackle a little surf fishing, at one point, have, in fact. Will probably try it again in the future, too. Just not good at it.
The real surf guys have a set of tools, gear, vehicles, everything a little different than what I’m used to. Doesn’t make it bad, just different.
I was talking gear with one buddy, and he had some surf gear, but he didn’t use it too often, not anymore. I was interested in the long poles used, the approach. “Wade out, then cast out past the second bar, wade back in and wait.”
The Gulf Coast? This weekend? Full of people who are doing just that. And surfers. And just general beach traffic, as well as impetuous youths with alarming firecrackers. Not an inviting time to sit by the water’s edge and wait for big fish. While, as a Scorpio, surf fishing is very appealing? Perhaps this isn’t the time to undertake such action. Not this week, not this weekend. I’m just suggesting, maybe, in a few weeks, sure?
Sagittarius: There’s a restaurant close to me, I like to dine there on occasion. A little pricey, but the food’s good. Only, the place is advertised as a “Northern Mexico authentic cuisine.” With “Balsamic Vinaigrette” and raspberry salsa? I’m unsure of where the balsamic vinegar is found in Mexico. For that matter, raspberries? Promoted as “Northern Mexico Mexican Food” is fine, but that’s more like fusion cuisine to me.
Sort of an upgrade from Tex-Mex, the original fusion cuisine. Perhaps the title refers to California cultured cuisine. Again I see this more as a fusion place, while its spirit is certainly Tex-Mex or Norteño, or whatever, I find the material, the signs and so forth? That’s all a little misleading. Good food, don’t misunderstand, just not exactly what’s advertised. Maybe it’s a push for that almighty tourist dollar. Maybe the local populace is less informed than I thought. Or maybe there’s an unwritten rule that the naming convention allows the marketing people to call it something that it’s clearly not.
Holiday weekend. Don’t be upset if the sign, if the advertising, if the symbolism indicated one thing and it turns out differently. Can’t say I didn’t warn you. Good? It’s all good. Just not what is advertised.
Capricorn: There’s a song, long-time radio favorite. Local classic rock. Gets lots of airplay to this day. I’d hum a few bars, but the odds are I’d bore you to death with my atonal attempts.
However, as I was working on the charts for Capricorn, what I kept thinking was the drum introduction to that song. It’s a quiet, steady beat. Then, for about the space of one set of those little musical bar things? Boom-boom, boom-boom.
The guitar swings in, the song rocks and rolls. It’s the tappity-tap, quiet-like introduction, then the space while the drum builds speed and then the song cuts loose. Capricorn is like that.
The important ingredient? Silence. Be quiet, there is no guitar, no bass, no keyboard, no samples, nothing, when the drum first starts. Just a strong bass-drum beat. Kicker, whatever that thing is called. Tom-tom. I don’t know, I’m not a musician. But I can tell you, rhythmically speaking, pause. Let the drums set the tempo for your week.
Aquarius: We were in a parking lot-like area. Buddy of mine — his name is not Bubba — grabbed a package of bottle rockets. He was launching them, one at a time, from a position in the field that he felt like was a secure post. First dozen or so were gone, and he was opening up a second package.
He let the first one fly, launched from his hand, just as the rocket ignited he would give it a good toss. A shower of harmless sparks, the rocket’s trail, and then a satisfactory boom. By the third package, I was guessing, from his cadence, there was something amiss. The rockets would launch, but there wasn’t the satisfactory “boom” at the end. He tossed another one in the air. The rocket trailed off with its cascade of fire and sparks. No explosion.
Reminds me of your week. Make a shower of spark, but no bang. Ask yourself, my fine Aquarius, is that really bad? All show and no pop?
Pisces: Firecrackers. Louder, more bang, more dangerous. Just grab some and go blow stuff up. It’s 4th of July weekend. There’s a local ordinance that reads, “No fireworks within the city limits.” Maybe it says, “Fireworks not allowed.” You’re Pisces. You are allowed. For the time being, and I mean, the next few days?
It’s so cool because you got nothing on you. I’d plan on making a big bang out of something. Go down in a blaze of glory? Go out with a bang? Just shoot off some firecrackers? Sure.
Piss off the neighbors, maybe get the cops called on you? Sure.
All in good fun. There’s some pent-up energy, that stuff needs to be released. Fireworks are the easiest method, what comes to my mind, fastest, quickest. Besides, there’s a place, down the road from here? Fireworks? “Buy one, get 12 free!!!” Who can pass up a deal like that?
Aries: Looks like Uranus, you’re going to hear a lot about that planet in the coming years, looks like Uranus is starting to move backwards this week. Doesn’t really go backward, but it will move in a direction not consistent with the other planets.
Means Uranus and the Uranian effect? Gradually fade away — for the time being. That, and the benefit of Jupiter in Aries?
“Define ‘benefit,’ smart guy. Delineate where this is good.”
I can’t make tough times any easier, but I can suggest it’s lot about how you’re looking at this. In short, the planet Uranus makes light where there was once dark. Problem being, it looks like you wanted to keep that secret in the dark, and now? Looks like there’s a light on it. What are going to do? I could imitate the action of one cat I once knew, and she would try to cover it up again.
Taurus: One of my buddies is a fishing guide. Not to the stars, like, on the coast. We were cleaning and bagging fish one afternoon and he was extolling the virtues of his favorite recipe for fish, “Garlic, butter…”
I stopped him. What isn’t good in garlic and butter? What can’t be fixed with garlic, butter, maybe, for me, a few peppers and some onions? How is this bad in any way, shape or form? There are probably some very real problems that can be fixed with a wash of garlic, butter, maybe a squeeze of lemon juice to freshen the flavor. Lots can be fixed that way. Cure for many things. And keep vampires away, too. However, this isn’t about a culinary fix to fresh fish. Or any other kind of kitchen assistance.
This about a generic, happy, and tasty cure-all for the woes you’ve got. Garlic and butter. I doubt there will be a garlic-butter ice cream, but never can tell what they’ll whip up in Austin. Or garlic and butter yogurt. Or even as a sorbet? Doubtful. But you did hear about it first here. Stop.
This about comfort. This is about a generic, easy-to-fix comfort. Not comfort food, although, if that’s what works, then that’s what works. There’s a relatively easy patch you can apply, and I think that’s what the most important? Like garlic and butter. Fixes everything. Should be in your pantry.
Gemini: Meteorologists claim that they are right about 80% of the time. Nice odds, if you believe them. I had to wonder if they were playing fast and lose with the numbers game.
There’s one guy, when he says “20% chance of rain?” No rain. “30%” means rain in his language whereas higher numbers don’t mean rain. Statistically he predicted rain so he can claim he’s accurate. But he’s not. He’s off by a wide margin, every day. Not unlike some horoscopes — and I’m not exempt from that final comment.
However, unlike me claiming 80% or 100% or whatever with accuracy, what I know is where the planets are, and what flavor that imparts to Gemini? Subjective, not objective. Last time firecrackers went off unannounced? I jumped. Not much, but a little.
Mars, several factors, but I’d hang it on Mars, makes your Gemini self jumpy. How you react? That’s up to you. With it being July 4th and all? I’d be a little careful about how you react to loud noises. Loud noises other than ones your Gemini self makes.
Add the heat in the North East and this is indeed an uncomfortable week.