“They say there’s divinity in odd numbers,
either in nativity, chance or death.”
Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor [V.i.2-3]
Capricorn: Mars is an active, almost overtly aggressive element, by transit. Pluto is an active, subtle but forceful energy, an active principal. The Sun itself, now in Capricorn, obviously, is a light, shining into dark corners. The portions of your soul that you thought you could hide? Those little corners are getting some exposure. The first image that came to mind was that of various night creatures scurrying out of the trailer’s kitchenette, when I turned on the lights. With a trailer under a mantle of live oak and scrub oak, the big bugs were quite common. Trying to hide from me and the cat, under the cover of dark. Didn’t work. Won’t work now, either, not for Capricorn. The light is shining on you, and you’ve got several very active players trying to get you to get you moving. Move.
- See schedule for details.
Aquarius: One of my favorite trinkets I’ve collected, over the years, it was, I was in Northern New Mexico. Lady in a religious icon shop handed me a St. Benedict medallion, told me I should have it. While I’m not Catholic, I have a huge admiration for the cult of the saints, associated with the Meso-American version of that faith. I got around to looking up St. Benedict, as portrayed on that medallion, and he was supposed to protect me from evil. The flip side of the medallion is his cross, more an icon, and what I like best is that it’s an equal-arm cross, four spokes, like the cardinal points of the (astrology) chart wheel. Four quadrants of the sky, earth, etc. The quartering of the heavens.
That trinket, I’m pretty sure the metal it’s stamped out of is far from precious, but that medallion is a personal icon for hope. Personal hope for what’s to come, and I derive certain kind of quiet strength from either wearing it or having it perched on my desk. Quiet strength. Weird places, strange rituals, a dash of foreign intrigue, all adds up to what’s happening in Aquarius. With Aquarius.
Pisces: This weekend, early next week? Moon slides through Pisces? Jupiter and Uranus aligned, too? It’s like that third cup of coffee. It’s like that specialty cup of coffee with four shots of espresso and just a dollop of whipped cream to smooth over the flavor. It’s an extra jolt. I’ve joked about it, but the happy point for me is someplace between four and eight cups of coffee. Stretched out over a period of hours, like, from morning to evening, it’s not so bad, but it’s tricky balance point. That’s where being a Pisces can help. That tricky balance point. That little area between “over-amped with heart palpitations,” and “too sleepy — can’t keep eyes open.” As a Pisces, usually, this is an easy balance to strike. Given that there’s a very electrifying energy coursing up and down your spine, I’d suggest modulation. Look for that balance point, someplace between 4 and 8 cups of coffee — or whatever you choose as an elixir.
Aries: I asked the waitress what her birthday was. “Like, my sign? Oh thank god. I moved here from Sedona (AZ), and everyone is like, ‘what’s your sign,’ and here, not as much.” The original question and answer, it was a little scary, at first. When she said, “Like what’s my sign?” I was scared. I’ve triggered some responses that have put me off, a little, or a lot, because some folks confuse my innocent curiosity as either an untoward advance or a gross superstition. Or some kind of demonic, heathen worship. Never mind that astronomy and astrology were the same thing until just the last few centuries. It’s an innocent question this week, and like me, you’re going to be scared at the first response. Maybe even the second response, too. Maybe you feel like you’ve hit one of those people on the attack. Defensive? Definitely defensive. Solution? Proceed forward with an unusually high (for Aries) degree of caution. Tentative, instead of the usual forthright “Charge!”
Taurus: I was looking for tech support on an arcane piece of software that I employ. Don’t use it often, barely paid pennies for it, don’t much care. Couldn’t be bothered to write a request for support. However I did get to digging around and looking for the ‘read me’ file, which pointed me to the help forums. I ran across the most interesting note from the developer himself. It was a list of problems, itemized, bulleted. Each solution? “Upgrade. Fixed in the latest version.” As a Taurus, given the upward movement of a number of factors? I doubt this is really a software issue. But it is an issue. The straight answer? Upgrade. Simple. Works. No more issues. The problem has already been fixed by someone else. Instead of arguing with the balky software? Upgrade. It’s been fixed, you can do your part, now. Upgrade.
Gemini: “Peculiar strength,” especially in the face of opposition that is none too clever. Rather a complex set of instructions, but this week isn’t without some pitfalls and pratfalls, a few tricks and some rather stupid opposition. One of the biggest mistakes I’ve made is underestimating the competition. Let’s say, fishing, for example. I estimated that the fish (Black Bass in local lake) would be in the “under five pounds” range and therefore, 8 lbs test line would be adequate. It’s not. Wasn’t. I don’t think the fish I caught, the one that got away? I don’t think he was near four pounds, but the amount of thrashing was what snapped the line. While it wasn’t that much weight, less than half what the line should stand, the way the fish snapped his head back and forth, that was greater than the strength of the fishing line. Snapped it clean off. Fish got a hook and a trick worm, I got nothing. I underestimated the foe. Fish wasn’t clever, so much as merely forceful and lucky. You don’t have to come up empty-handed, not after reading this, Gemini, use stronger material. They’re not clever, just forceful.
Cancer: I stopped at a Starbucks, someplace along my way. I was either coming home or going to meet a client, and I’m not sure I really recall. What I do remember, vividly, was a manager-type, Starbuck’s green apron, she was siting at the counter, sipping on a (brand) Energy Drink. The garishly colored and tattooed, 16-ounce can, sickly green drink that’s high with eleven herbs and spices, and caffeine. I looked at her, and what she was drinking, and before I could formulate a good retort, she snapped, “I don’t like coffee, you know.” I don’t like bugs, but that wasn’t what this was about. In the land of green-tinged coffee drinks, the place that sells more milk than anyone else, I would suppose that employees would like coffee. Just a supposition on my part, and as evidenced by that one employee, sipping an energy drink, not all green apron people like their coffee. As a Cancer, you’re going to be faced with a similar instance. I didn’t have a quick, smart-ass answer handy. Like me, I doubt you’ll have that quick remark available. The way to successfully negotiate the fits, starts, stops and turns? Learn to shrug this week.
Leo: In 1928, the Milam Building, in what was, and still is, downtown San Antonio, that building was the largest concrete skyscraper. The Milam Building was also the largest totally air-conditioned skyscraper. I’ve stayed in modern motels that are taller than the Milam Building. It’s not really a skyscraper by any more modern judgement. More like a mid-rise. However, in its day? The tallest — and maybe more important? The coolest, literally. Like the Milam Building, you are the Leo (The Leo) and like the Milam Building, you have a record. Problem: this isn’t a good time to worry about records that you once set. Yes, you’re the greatest. But the stars are lining up in a weird way, and there’s this little influence that suggests someone has forgotten that you’re the tallest, coolest, of them all. I know that but I’m oriented and predisposed to treat Leo with reverence. I’m not that stupid. You’re going to encounter at least one person, or entity, one stupider than average person. Thing. Place. That is an obstacle because those who don’t remember their history are doomed to repeat it. (Don’t these people ever learn? Don’t mess with Leo’s.)
Virgo: I rolled into town to see some friends, and my hostess was looking rather haggard. I inquired. Apparently, I wouldn’t know, but apparently, good Tequila (Anejo or Patron) doesn’t mix well with White Russians. It was, I’m guessing from the thinnest shards of conversation, an auspicious start to the evening. It’s just, as the White Russians segued into shots of tequila, it was someplace around the witching hour that things took a turn for the worse. Milk, cream, vodka, and the rest of the stuff in one of those? Topped off with good shots of tequila? I’m sure it was unpleasant. I wasn’t party to the party, I just suffered, not as badly, but I did have empathy for the pathetic hostess. Mixing hard liquors like that isn’t a good idea — that’s plain, common sense, not to mention something we all knew beforehand. Tequila shots usually require salt and lime wedges, and the rest of this is just a long litany of what not to do. The message, though, goes much deeper. It’s an innocent idea, and the problems start when you are full of that Virgo first-flush. Like around the first or third White Russian. That’s when the little Virgo voice in your head needs to be listened to. I’m not preaching, just trying to keep you from making the same mistake my friend did. It was an ugly sight. I wasn’t even there, but just hearing about it. Just hearing about it? Is that good enough? Don’t mix liquors like that.
Libra: Typical January weather in Texas will include brilliant afternoons without a cloud in the sky and the temperature hovering near a very enjoyable 70 degrees (F). Then another ice age will be shepherded in, and there will frozen precipitation. Rain, sleet, even snow and ice. From shorts to long underwear and then, in a matter of days, back again. Living here, I’ve learned to adapt and to embrace whatever the weird winter weather is. As a Libra, I’d like you to embrace and adapt. Saturn is right in the middle of your stuff. The Sun, Moon and Mars are adding a punch to Saturn’s downer vibe. Adapt and embrace. “It’s sunny out, I’ll wear shorts and sandals! Cool!” The next afternoon? Glad I’ve got heavy winter coat and a woolen scarf. Adapt and embrace. Or embrace and adapt. It’s just like Texas Winter Weather. The weather dictates what we wear. It doesn’t dictate whether or not we have fun, or enjoy the activity. I’d suggest, as a Libra, you can enjoy what’s happening. Embrace and adapt.
Scorpio: I am destined to alienate a few of my good Scorpio friends with this one. But here it is: stay teachable. It’s really simple, there’s a problem, or two, and you keep trying to work it the way you’ve always worked it. That’s not working. The old adage, “Get a bigger hammer?” That doesn’t work, not in this situation. There’s a whole host of planets allied against you. Mostly, not entirely, but mostly in Capricorn, but there’s the odd push from Pisces, as well, what with Jupiter and Uranus doing the last tango there. Planets are pushing and shoving, and you used to be able to do well with bigger, stronger, almost like a bully.
Doesn’t work.
This week requires gentle Scorpio finesse.
Gentle.
Scorpio.
Finesse.
Just to spell it out, the “bigger hammer” answer is the wrong answer. There’s a way to get from here to there, or, if you really are trying to get a round peg into a square hole, or the reverse, a (something) into a (something), the quickest, easiest, most expedient, for my Scorpio friends? Watch. Listen. Learn. You tried, what, three times? Didn’t work, did it? Stop. Try a different approach.
Sagittarius: I was tending to matters that needed tending to. I figured, right before the new year started, I’d straighten out the rat’s warren of wires than run this enterprise here. Phone lines, computer cables, network wires, all in a huge, and jumbled, mess. There’s the phone recorder box that feeds into another box that I use to record phone conversations (readings). Skype, hype, and the rest of the stuff. A mouse, a trackball, keyboards, and the list goes on. The undertaking was massive, but I did get it cleaned out. All the wires, cables, and power cords were unplugged, rerouted, dusted, and plugged back in, with the new arrangement tidy and neat. First reading, first business phone call, January 1. Phone didn’t record. I had to trace back over the mess I’d cleaned up, then ferret out the problem, which was an obvious one: loose phone cord. In this day and age, you’d think we’d be beyond such problems. Apparently not. One client lost a reading recording, but that was about it. As the new year gets underway, there’s a small error, possibly leftover from last year, and this small problem can cascade into a larger issue. If you let it. That the trick, the catch, the hint. “If you let it.” Catch it soon enough, and this issue, as of this week, is no longer an issue. Hardware is fixed.
