“She would have me as a beast: not that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.”
Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors [III.ii.86-88]
- The one twin, he meets the soon-to-be wife of his long-lost twin brother, she thinks it’s him, much hilarity does ensue.
Leo: The charts I use to prepare for the week, I set the time to 12:01 AM Thursday, and the conclusion is 11:59 PM the next Wednesday. Been a reliable and easy way to time it, leaves about two minutes that I don’t have covered. At the end of last week’s horoscope, it was about the “almost New Moon in Leo,” and the beginning of this week, is all about that New Moon. Time to start a project. Looking at other items in the charts, that project should be, well, like a novel. I’m not suggesting that every Leo rush right out and start writing an epic tale of love, lust, greed, the fall of Western Civilization, or whatever your topic is, no, that’s not it. I’m suggesting that a long-term project, while a novel can, in theory, be written in a month, I’d like to think, my first published book took, literally, years. Some place between writing a novel in a month and a project that was more than a decade in the making, someplace between those two mile-markers are where your project is located. Think: long-term, easy to get to, with some built in resting point.
Virgo: The anticipation is palpable. Birthdays are around the next corner. The unique event that occurs, the New Moon, just as the thinnest crescent of the moon is visible, shortly after sun set? That triggers my little Virgo friends. I’d like to think of this as a cleaning frenzy.
A chance to shake out the cobwebs, sort of the reverse of a spring cleaning, a chance to clear out little mental trivia, odds and ends collected over the last few months, even years, but I’d prefer to look at this like a month or two, and here’s the opportunity to put some of that behind you’re good, Virgo self. Mars just aligned with Saturn and that served to dampen some enthusiasm. Still, there’s a chance, an opportunity to do a little, I’d prefer it, mental house cleaning.
Libra: Much as I appreciate Mars and his energy, I’m unsure that the recent round of chaos in the Libra life would lend any credence to my adoration. There are several points that get triggered in the Libra life. Good or bad? Neither. Something to be looked at. A point — or two — to consider. Issues. Ideas. Problems with no apparent solutions? Toil and trouble? Problems are merely solutions that haven’t been found yet. This week offers a chance to work through a single — my guess is Saturn-inspired — problem. Not a big hairy deal. Maybe it seems like a big at the moment, but it’s not. Take the bigger problem and break it down into smaller parts. Tackle a single piece of the problem, not the whole thing, and see if there isn’t a way to work on part of the issue. As the week turns into the weekend and then, by next week, you’ve got an easier solution than you thought. Won’t fix everything, but any forward progress is welcome now.
Scorpio: There are variations, but what I’ve observed, when confronted, a Scorpio will tend to stop dead in his/her tracks and ponder. Strong Scorpio influences in chart, no mitigating planet factors, and there’s the confrontation. This week, next few days. Here’s the hint: don’t. Don’t lash out. Don’t attack. Don’t counter-attack. Keep that Scorpio stinger poised, as it always is, but don’t use it. No stinging and cutting remarks. No slaps to the offending person’s head (although well-deserved, I’m sure you’ll agree). The trick is to let the Sun move into Virgo before you un-sheath, unleash that almighty Scorpio wrath. Cooler heads will prevails, and I figure, by then, you’ll have framed that comment that so richly answers the question and remedies the offense. There’s a little too much tension — not all yours — but you would be best served with a momentary pause.
Sagittarius: Things that only happen in Austin, part whatever. Had to have a heading tag for this one. Overheard, recently, “Why can’t I find a nice, Wiccan family, you know?” She continued, “A nice, upstanding Wiccan family?” The old traditions have made a huge comeback in the modern age, thanks to the more level playing field of the inter-webs. Techno-Pagan was popular, for a while. There’s a good Tarot deck, a perfect combination of the old and the new.
There’s a subtle energy coursing through our Sagittarius veins, and now’s the time. Time for a new tribe. Time to try on a new belief system. Or, in other worlds, I’m going to try some new fishing lures. Try a style I haven’t used before. So whether the promise is new people, a nice, upstanding Wiccan family, or new bait? Try something new.
Capricorn: “I told my dad, if he wanted to be a grandpa, he’d better send me to a different school.” Lovely lass, working in a coffee shop while attending a local university. She was bemoaning her Capricorn fate, as she wanted a mate. Wanted children. Further into the tale, what she revealed was she had attended a private high school. All girls. That was the origin of the comment. She was still single, last time I spoke with her.
As a Capricorn, I’m not sure you want children or grandchildren, but as Capricorn, what we’re looking at is a chance to address that old issue. Make it right. Take steps to find what it is that you’re looking for, and as a suggestion, right now, list the the three Capricorn desires, then narrow that list down to one, and take a single step to accomplish that goal. Or get closer realizing the Capricorn dream.
Aquarius: In parts of the American southwest, there are “clovis” relics. Artifacts that predate modern man. I forget, ten, twelve thousands years old, originally named because the first find was close to Clovis, New Mexico?
One of the more curious, unsolved mysteries about the Clovis People and their remnants? The third notch in the ax-head. Presumably an ax, not sure, what it looks like, and there’s a subset of the artifacts that have a third notch chipped into the ax-head. Probably, but I’m no archeologist, that notch was used in some type of binding which has disappeared over the long years. I’m not sure.
I’m pretty sure no one really knows. As an Aquarius, not knowing is a problem. As an exercise, trying to figure out how that third notch was used is a good way to go. I’m not sure that this week will hold any definitive answers, but a couple of good theories will help make life’s puzzle better.
Pisces: Last time I was in Las Vegas, I had a curious problem. I got lost, turned around, in the one the casino complexes. At the entrance, there were three (young, scantily and skanky clad) girls, handing out beads. “Hey, here! You’re hot, have some beads!” It was part of a promotion of some kind. Next to the girls, in similar attire, were two male models, two boys of epic proportions and steely, cut muscles. Skin tight leggings and open vest revealing six-pack abs. Since I was lost, trying to navigate the walk-way to the strip, the third time I passed the girls and guys with their beads and promotions, one of the guys made strong eye contact, “Beads?” He purred demurely. All of them, four, six, whatever, working that promotion. As a Pisces, you can say, “No,” a time or two, but that final pass? If the pitch is right? Bet you go ahead and take it. Can’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m not Pisces, and I tend towards heterosexual, so the last pass didn’t work on me. However, as a Pisces?
Aries: I was driving out of San Antonio, headed to go fish with a buddy, and I looked at the line of traffic headed back into downtown. I was headed the opposite way from the rest of the traffic. Long line of stalled cars, inching forward in rush hour entanglements. Sun was barely up, too. Something wrong with the system where everyone has to head the same direction at the same time, and the traffic is bad, everyday, same time. Dallas, Houston, Austin. Austin is the worst for vehicular traffic, and for many years, I didn’t own a car because it was so bad. I did, literally, I was on the I-35 bridge, I passed a car three times, while I was walking. I made it over the bridge faster than the car did. There’s heavy traffic in Aries. The trick is to go the opposite way. I went fishing while everyone else went to work. Flip that around, I work when everyone else is off. Fit that to Aries: go the other direction. If you’re stuck, head the other way. Opposite from what, “Everyone else is doing.”
Taurus: I had a particular method of getting goals reached. Works well, sometimes, and I’d like to think, for this week, until the Sun reaches Virgo (next Wednesday), that my peculiar yet particularly effective method would work well for Taurus. I use scraps of paper, not even a post-it note, just various receipts, backs of used envelopes, the torn-off pages of a tear-off daily calendar, sort of like recycling, in its own right. Each day, I start a list on one of those scraps of paper. Hot-button items, to-do list, “Get It Done,” and action items. Rebuild a website, return calls, query publishers, call dead-beat people who owe me, the usual lists. At the end of the day, before bed, I scoop up the lists, check to make sure I didn’t write down any phone numbers, save those, but then? Throw everything away. Toss it all. Here, I use a recycling box for papers, as the City of San Antonio recycles. I hope the idea is clear. Every day this week? Starts fresh. New beginning. Don’t carry day-old troubles and cares into the next day.
Gemini: One of the guys I fish with, this is inshore, coastal fishing, he participates in an “ulta-light” tournament. Means that the fishing reels are spooled with 4-pound test mono. Great fun, wrestling a big Red Drum (redfish) on a four-pound line. Can be done. That buddy, his son, I think if I understood correctly, holds a record for a biggest catch on that lightweight line.
It can be done.
Requires great finesse. Requires patience and temperance. Requires a steady hand and an almost intuitive feel for the fish, letting it play out and reeling it in and playing out and reeling it in, and it can be great sport. Regrettably, when I tried it with my buddy, I lost the only fish I caught, several times. Wasn’t frustrating because it was fishing, and served as a valuable lesson, maybe a new skill set I could develop. After years of horsing bass into the boat, though, it’s not a skill I’m likely to develop as I’d have to unlearn years of fishing experience. Jupiter is like that, in your sign, even now. If you can learn the finesse and technique of playing instead of wrangling (the fish), or the whatever is on the end of the Gemini line, then you’re good. Might have to break off a few times before you adjust. Worthwhile, if you give it try, I can see you with a new state record, if you lean to finesse it.
Cancer: I was making a hotel reservation for a convention I was attending. I called the reservation number and the operator, after I pushed a few buttons to get to a live person, that operator suggested that the website would offer a better deal. Rang off and hit the site, got a much lower rate. Don’t know why. Flip that around, and there’s a place I like to stay when I’m at the coast, fishing. Hit that website and the advertised room rate is exorbitantly high. Call the front desk, mention a fishing guide’s name and get in at much reduced rate. Much better.
One place, the website is cheaper. Another place, talking to the front desk is better. With what’s going on, planet-wise, in respect to Cancer? Doesn’t hurt to check. Or check twice. Call and look at the website. Not sure what’s the better deal, but you’ll have to try both. I think, it’s kind of like shopping a good deal.
