“‘T is known I ever
Have studied physic, through which secret art,
By turning o’er authorities, I have,
Together with my practice, made familiar
To me and to my aid the blest infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;”
Cerimon in Shakespeare’s Pericles [III.ii.32-7]
Sagittarius: Dulce de Leche is a common candy, after-dinner treat. The place I find it most frequently is the check counter at a local tacqueria. Good place, around the corner. English is the second language.
I’ve seen “dulce de leche” in two forms, basically. One is extruded like a brick, typically garnished with pecan halves. The other form is round, virtually indistinguishable from a praline, and again, garnished with pecan halves. I looked it up. Popped the term into a search engine to get the ingredients. What I got wasn’t just ingredients but a quick, easy recipe. “Boil a can of sweetened condensed milk.”
The short, easy way. Under that was a set of ancillary instructions and warnings. I only made it to number one: make sure the paper label is off before boiling the can. This is obviously an anglicized recipe. You would think we would know to take the paper label before heating. You would think. Holiday, holiday food, the mighty Sagittarius birthdays, all gets wrapped up in one. Either don’t mock the stupid instructions, or, better yet, just remember to follow all the instructions, and don’t be a victim of uncommon sense.
Capricorn: Retail time, the long stretch to Xmas. Should have better punctuation. I was idle, in the Apple Store, looking at things technological. Tech toys, if you will, and I will. Not really lusting, as there’s not as much stuff that I need. I want less, not more. I was toying with something and the red-shirt Apple kid wandered up to offer assitance. He suggested I buy what I was looking, through the Apple store online.
His reasoning was quite solid, there was an upgrade option, and that wasn’t available at the store in the mall, but it was available from the store online. I appreciated his honesty, directness, and his time that he spent chatting with me. I never made it past the first display of equipment. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t planning on buying anything. Not then, not now. I like looking at my websites on other hardware. Learn things about screen real estate by trying other machines. Bigger, smaller, always give it a spin. No issue. What I liked was the blatant, brutal honesty. I’m sure there’s a note on the all in the back room reminding the employees to get customers to buy online, or something. I’m sure it was company policy. Still, as sales tool? Would’ve worked on me, if I had the cash and a real desire. It’s shopping season. Open season. Online, real world, where for Capricorn? I’d follow that advice and avoid crowds as much as possible for the coming fortnight. It’s astrological advice.
The “Mercury Retrograde and 2012: what’s up ahead” audio, from a call earlier this month.
Aquarius: The person attributed with the “invention” of the shopping cart was an Oklahoma City grocer, in 1937. Funny part of the story was that it almost didn’t make it as the guys used to do the grocery shopping and they — universally — thought it was sissy to use a cart that looked like a baby pram. Don’t ridicule me, I’m just reporting the facts as they were presented to me. I’m not in charge here. An Aquarius wouldn’t have any trouble pushing something that was less than macho, or, for that matter, an Aquarius wouldn’t have any problem with a device that made life easier. I’m all about making the Aquarius life easier. As Thanksgiving rolls through then on into the next week, start looking for a way to make the Aquarius life easier. Might not be macho, or effeminate, or whatever most normal people would be opposed to. Little odd, even. You can work with a little odd. I’m looking at the stretch after T-Day, onwards.
Pisces: One of the weather forecasters suggested the annual freeze, or the first freeze, if there is a first freeze, the time when that should hit is the third or fourth week of November. On a weather map, typically, that’s a big finger of arctic air that started in Russia and Siberia, froze over the North Pole, then makes it way on down to us. For the record? I’m not a big fan of freezing weather. Weather usually warms right up nice then, and I was amused to discover that weathermen track their accuracy. Some do. What I was looking for, for my Pisces friends, is some historical record. Some fact, factoid, little note, a similar instance, some connection. There’s a thread here. The connection has to do with moving forward. Way the weather’s been lately? I’m unsure that a historical record is the way to judge what we might be looking at. There’s a problem some suggests a simple theory to explain away the problem. As a Pisces, in this situation, it’s your job (task) to poke a hole in that theory. Not contrary, just that the theory isn’t quite correct. Not this year.
Aries: High school football in Texas is the stuff of legends. Made into an epic novel. Made into an epic film. Got perverted and made into TV. Talk about drama, huh. The T-shirt I saw, local high school football team? “God. Country. Mojo. (name of the high school).” I’m not sure if I’m appalled or amused. Maybe both. Really, I think it’s a decent slogan. Imparts power. Invokes higher-ups. Has a touch of magic about it. I have not one clue if they were the Double A, Triple A, whatever classification and taxonomy, the whatever champions, winners, or just an also-ran. Doesn’t much matter, not to me, as I’ll nod and act interested, but local high school football, with rivalries, feuds, wins and losses, doesn’t much matter to me. What I liked best was that T-shirt. I could use something like that. “God. County. Mojo. Astrofish.net.” Doubt I’ll ever implement that one. I’d tend to make “gods” rather than a single name, and that’s my world-view. The other three lines, besides my URL? That’s what I’m seeing for Aries. “God. County. Mojo.” Make it happen as you have, as long as you order your priorities, you have what it takes.
Taurus: I had breakfast the other morning, not unusual, at a local tacqueria. Nothing strange about that, in and of itself. In heavily accented English, I was asked if I wanted the two egg and potato tacos on the side, or wrapped up. I just nodded “no,” and let it go. I wasn’t sure what the deal was. A week later, same place, I noticed that there was a spacial deal offered, breakfast before 9 (AM), two potato egg tacos were included in the deal, free. Added bonus. Which is why I gained weight. That place, those breakfast tacos are huge. There was something free. I doubt the manager did a careful cost analysis and figured out the price of the ingredients, the labor, and what the store would lose for every two tacos given away, and I certainly didn’t see anything about this online. Did it build business? I’d guess so. Might be no free lunch, but every once in along while, there can be a free breakfast taco. The weekly planets suggest that you be aware. And unlike me, when that free offer comes up? Take it.
Gemini: “If your patient ears will attend…” Shakespeare’s plays all follow a strict format. 5 acts. No more, no less. This week breaks down into one act for each day, over the next few days. One act, one day. Means it takes 5 (five) acts, five (5) days to get there from here. I watched one version of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar where maybe a half-dozen players acted out a battle scene. Pretty impressive, not many bodies to fill a stage and give the illusion of two armies, marching against each other. As a Gemini, you are nominally short of attention. As a Gemini, you are nominally quick of mind. As a Gemini, this whole five acts in five days takes way too long. And as a Gemini, you need to let this one run its course, over five days. One act, one day, five days. No cheating. Won’t get here any quicker. Can’t compress time with the usual Gemini stage magic. Five days. Five acts.
Cancer: Come on, you think I can’t not talk about shopping and stuff? Holidays. Black Friday. E-world, Black Monday? Right? Know what I’m talking about? What used to be the biggest retail day of the year? The face of retail has changed some, but there’s still that hint. The way your chart looks to me, it’s as if you’re going to be working retail, this very Friday. There’s a very small portion of my readership who really will be working that kind of madness. Look at it this way, it’s the testing grounds for life. If you can survive retail on Black Friday, then there is nothing under the sun that can scare you ever again. If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. One of my cynical friends added, “But if it does kill you, then you’re dead.” Personally, from what I’ve seen of Cancer folks lately, the Real Moon Children will excel. Life will be good. Got a horrible, terrible conflagration, just up ahead. How bad? Only as bad as you make it. Who’s next?
Leo: Living in Austin, as I have, the day after Thanksgiving, day after this scope goes live, there’s an unusual number of characters on the Hike and Bike Trail. Lady Bird Lake (named for Democratic former President Johnson’s wife, “Lady Bird.) The trail is packed with runners, joggers, walkers like me, and just teeming with fit and soon to be fit individuals. Feel the burn. The day after T-day is a special time for Leo, as well. This is a significant time to look at new beginnings. The inherent issue is that it’s the long, dark days (Northern Hemisphere) of winter.
Days are shorter, nights are longer, and that doesn’t always bode well with a Sun-driven Leo. The Leo. However, stop, pause, think about all those runners, joggers and walkers on the trail in Austin. Got an image? New idea, new regimen, new start. New, winter lease on life. New start. Fresh idea. Give yourself a blank slate, and let’s see where this new start takes us. Most of those after turkey day people on the trail? In another week, they won’t be there. However, as a Leo, the Leo, will you? It’s like a new year commitment, maybe five, six weeks early.
Virgo: Inside the Pearl Brewery Museum, there are collections of one of the founder’s big game animals. The collection includes an elephant. The stuffed elephant head is drinking a Pearl Beer. As it turns out, cheap beer like Texas Pride and Castle Beer were produced by Pearl, and the name for one of them, the aforementioned Castle Beer, its name is from that stuffed elephant head. More a myth than a fact, I found it interesting that the recipe for the beer, Pearl, Castle, and Texas Pride, they all came out of the same brewery, same water, same ingredients, same recipe, just a different label. I’m not sure how the elephant became a masthead for cheap Castle Beer. Bit of a reach, but I could see it, something to do with chess. However, more to the point, all three labels, three different price points, all three items had the exact same ingredients. It was a retired Pearl employee told me that. Has to be true. Probably is. What’s amusing to me, look at how this washes out, when someone will refuse to drink one brand because it tastes different when the only difference is the label?
Mars is frying in Virgo, the Sun is in Sagittarius, you’re a picky Virgo. Take a moment from Mars-inspired sentiments, take long enough to look underneath the label and see if it isn’t all the same stuff.
Libra: I’ve been a long-time fan of the Austin-Original Alamo Drafthouse. It was one of the first successful “dinner and a movie” venues. While the idea has been tried before, it was one of the first that succeeded. Possibly too well, but that’s another question. Over the years, I’ve written about my movie-going experiences there. As I was looking at the Libra chart, I thought about one of the “Alamo Movie Experiences,” sitting in the luxury of a big, soft-padded chair, food in front of me, sound system rattling the back fillings in my lower jaw, a total experience. It wasn’t Rocky Horror, but could’ve been as they issued squirt guns with the tickets. Some fun. Sitting there, in the dark, water gun in hand, perfect example of what is good for Libra. Get out. Enjoy. But do so in the dark, or under the cover of darkness. Unlike any other theater, I have to get to the Alamo half an hour early. The trailers aren’t trailers but amusing and fun stuff not usually screened in a movie theater. Think You Tube, on a big screen. Outtakes, gaffs, stupid stunts, parodies, and other cinematic vignettes, generally tied to upcoming shows. Plus water guns, at that one show. Interactive, but interactive in a style that best suits my fine Libra friends, at this moment. In the dark. Don’t have to acknowledge the people on either side. Fun. Not exactly on the sideline, but maybe, out of the direct line of sight.
Scorpio: I got a fortune cookie the other day. Perfect cookie for right now. In Scorpio. Perfect, just perfect. “Don’t Give Advice.” I know one Scorpio will find that a bitter pill to swallow. Might be impossible for that one Scorpio. The rest of you?
Think about it.
I didn’t say, “Don’t ever give any advice.” I didn’t say, “No advice from this point on.” I just suggested, like the fortune cookie said, “Don’t give advice.” I’d amend that to include “right now.” Less about right now, and more about what’s occurring, really, in other signs. There’s an unstable element, and I’m not sure, despite the Scorpio-laser-like insight, I’m not sure you’ve been given all the facts. Therefore, don’t weigh in on the decision just yet. If you’ll wait, I need about ten days on this, but wait about ten days? You’ll look like the smart one who didn’t tell everyone else what to do.