Venus, Sun, Mars, Uranus — all in Aries

“Daffodils,
That comes before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.”

Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale [IV.iii138-40]

Coming soon, live:

Bare Foot Astrology see listing for details.
Aries: Happy birthday with a shout out to that one Aries. (You KNOW who you are!) Damn, but I like me some Aries girls. Women. Whatever. I like all Aries, but some are just really easy to get along with. Then, there are some who will just make this more difficult than it needs to be. Here’s a hint: stop.

It’s ‘Aries Birthday Time.’ Pretend like you are the queen for the day, for the week, for the next few days. Doesn’t matter what kind of flavor of Aries you are, just pretend. Buddy of mine, his daughter has this precious little sign in her room, “Always act as if there is an invisible tiara on your head.” Could apply to a lot of situations, but as of now? In Aries, with Venus and the sun and so forth? Queen, king, princess, prince, one of them. Pretend, hold your head high, as if there is magical, invisible crown on it at this very moment.

Taurus: I was meeting a client for the first time. Local restaurant. Face-to-face reading. While I don’t do as many as before, I still allow time to schedule a few. Keeps me sharp. What was strange, the client’s name, it could either be male or female. Not unusual. In my ignorance, I assumed male.

When she showed up, I was a bit taken aback — in a good way. Gave me pause. I had a chart with her name on it, I had specifics, I had details about her life. I’ll admit, discovering she was female and of a certain age made her much more attractive, and I think, sexist pig that I am, made for a better reading. What fooled me was the name. Could be either male name or a female name. When I looked at the chart, when I looked at the email address, I made a calculated guess, an assumption. Could go either way — statistically? 50/50 shot. I guessed. I guessed wrong. It turned out quite all right as I’m adept at quick changes and being politely surprised — in a good way — made for a more interesting first meeting. Now I’ll know. As a Taurus, next time, you’ll know. As a Taurus, hasty conclusions and outright suppositions? The straight 50/50 shot? I’d guess you’ll guess wrong. Like me.

Gemini: How to motivate a Gemini? That was my first question, looking at your chart. The question of motivation, with a Gemini, takes many different forms. Typically, the first and most reliable Gemini motivation is knowledge. Arcane, insane trivia. The easiest way to get into a Gemini is through mental processes. Smart works. Smart and pretty? Bonus. But intelligence, signs of intelligence, that’s the first step. What I’m looking for is a simple motivation technique to get Gemini up, off the backside, out of the house, the domicile, and on the way to making it all better. Whatever is missing? I’m thinking of one buddy, now, but it applies to a number of the Gemini folks. Try this: “Dude. Put down the beer bottle and let’s fish this weekend.”

Something. Anything. Out. Off the couch. Then out.

Cancer: The question was, “What is the most dangerous of the heavy metals?” Fishing buddy’s first response, “You mean, like poison?” No, Poison was Hair Metal, different breed altogether. I’d ask which of the heavy metals was most unstable, but as a musical genre, I can’t think of a single that act that hasn’t suffered from changes due to substance abuse, mental illness, “exhaustion,” whatever they are calling it these days. Endemic with the lifestyle perpetrated by the rigors of the music. The real question was about elements and periodic table, nothing to do with music. It’s an example of words encompass rather different ideas, how all of that can get quickly, and easily, confused.

The (best sign) Leo: Are you familiar with a Venn Diagram? It’s simple construct, two circles with an overlapping space between them, and then the comments, “Us,” in one circle, “them,” in the other circle, and the overlapping points show where there’s collusion. Yes, and that’s good. Let’s draw two circles. Leo in one circle. Necessarily, the Leo circle is larger, prettier, and little better off. The other circle? That other circle, in our example for this week, that other circle doesn’t even touch the Leo circle. What we have are two circles, next to each other, with no overlapping parts.

Problem.

Solution? This next couple of days is about that other circle. I’ll admit it’s not as big, not as nice, not as cool as the Leo circle, but for this next few days, it’s about that other circle, not about the Leo circle.

Virgo: Buddy of mine, fishing buddy, I always thought his wife was, like, about six feet tall. He’s a big old boy himself, but either alone, or around them, not as a couple, but hanging out? I always was left with the impression that she was a tall and stately woman. Turns out, she’s substantially shorter than I thought. I caught her, one time, without the heels and when her guard was down, and she’s tiny little thing. Short.

It’s all about impressions. It’s about projections. I asked her, point-blank, “Just how tall are you?” Turns out she’s only about 5’3″ — not too tall at all. The image she projects, big voice, big hair, high heels? Works to make her fill up a larger than life space. It’s all about projecting herself on the world. This week is about how you — Virgo — projects yourself on the world. Imagine that you’re taller, thinner, prettier, whatever, more of whatever it is that you want to be. Project that image. Took me several years to finally figure out — and I had to ask – about her height. All about what you project. Not so much about what’s there, as what you project. Try a little Virgo confidence, too. (Hint: it’s there, you have to use it.)

Libra: It’s been many long years since I’ve had a garden. Or even a small patch of land that I can grow stuff on. My current lifestyle is but too much in flux and I’m uncertain of my location to be able to put down roots. I have general area, but I’ve lived in too many locations since decamping tony South Austin. So no garden for me.

However, as a Libra, I’d like you think about certain aspects of gardening. Digging in the dirt. Getting your hand dirty, even, to the point of dirt under your nails. One way, physically or just metaphysically, it’s time to get dirt. Time to turn the earth, time to take the cracked, caked and baked gardens of your life and break the soil. Turn it over. Open it up to the fecund and rotting smell of spring time — it is spring time in Texas. Time to get dirty and that can be for real or just in a Zen sense, like, “Chop wood, carry water.” Either one works.

Scorpio: Guy was a plumber. Tradesman, to some, construction, to others. Day laborer, in some circles. Valuable asset, when there’s a water leak, too. “Man, I don’t know if you can, like, get over there today, we’re shorthanded,” he answered his phone. I looked up at him. I don’t look up to many people, not physically. He’s a buddy, about 6’4″. Big lad. I do look up to him.

Shorthanded?

“One of the guys, you know, he doesn’t like to show up on Monday. Or Fridays.” I understand. I’ve had similar jobs. I’ve behaved in a similar way. The problem is, like my buddy, your Scorpio self is left shorthanded. Like my buddy, he managed to work it all out by himself. Took a little longer, and he had to do all the work himself. Same message for my shorthanded Scorpio friends, this week. Even the ones who are over six feet tall.

Sagittarius: There’s always the frustration factor. I’d leave enough wiggle room in the Sagittarius area for that “frustration factor.” Someone, something, perhaps it’s a computer with balky software, maybe a tech support who isn’t doing tech support, something, somewhere, one of those, the frustration factor. Build in a little extra time for it. An extra five minutes, an extra hour. Took 45 minutes on tech support, but I got answers. All a matter of me asking the right question. Getting to the right question? Have to build in time for the frustration factor. Mars, and so forth, in Aries, while good, it just makes us Sagittarius types leap to conclusions a little faster. Build in a little extra time for the others to catch up, hence, time for the “frustration factor.” This time? It really is them.

Capricorn: There’s a company, I admire their outright balls, as this one company? They send me a solicitation to remind me that my domain name is up for renewal, and I should renew with that company at more than three times the cost of the renewal. Perfectly legitimate marketing. The letter looks official. They merely troll domain registrations and find folks who are easy to fool. I got another letter the other afternoon, thought about Capricorn. Before I left the post office, before I tossed that letter, after ripping it open, looking at the official (looking) stationary, letterhead and all, not a bulk mail stamp, my gut reaction was anger. How could they toy with people like this? One of my clients got a similar letter, asked me about it.

Throw. It. Away.

Looks all up and in-your-face legal, with fancy terms. I wasn’t even out of the post office, reading that letter, all frozen in place with anger. The anger? It’s justified, as it was one of those letters I have to read carefully. Domain name I opted not to pay for the privacy; therefore, that company got my mailing address. Irritated me, and I was frozen. Not mad enough to be shaking, but angry enough to stop, pause, and not do anything.

Hint: throw it away.

Simplest solution.

This is an obvious reason why I only use one company — now — for ALL domain registrations: Register4less. Privacy is included.

Aquarius: I was working on a heinous technical issue with a website. Not exactly a strength of mine, but I do enjoy understanding the arcane, technical details that hold sites together. The underpinnings of the world web homepage things. Like that stuff. I spent 45 minutes talking with tech support. Weather, sports, politics. Issue with the site’s mechanical stuff, underneath the hood. The first issue got bumped up to a superior tech, but then, I asked another question, the “Anything else I can help you with?” That was good. While it wasn’t the big problem, it was an annoying problem that’s been bugging me since the last major update. There’s a feature I was looking for, how to accomplish a certain task, not a big deal, but no one, certainly no online documentation, could find an answer. However, “any more questions?” Yes. Poking through the new features, there it was, what I was looking for. Didn’t solve the first problem, but the second problem might’ve been a bigger save, for me. In the long run.

“Anything else I can help you with,” the pro forma closing?

All you have to do is ask.

Pisces: I was stepping out of a seedy-looking TexMex joint. I nodded to the cop in the parking lot, which was mostly dried mud and mostly baked hard, and I glanced at the heavens. “Think it will rain?” He smiled and pushed his sunglasses up, local PD, knows me by sight, if not words. He smiled and nodded, “I just got off the phone with my wife, she said it was pouring in Helotes.” I looked at the heavens again. Clouds scudded by, almost hugging the treetops, with the damp, feels-like-rain moisture in the air. Who knows?

I glanced at my notes, the cop is a Pisces. The way he smiled and shrugged? Think about it. Need rain? More rain? Less rain? I’ll predict that whatever it is that you want, it’s available, next town over.