- “All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.”
- Shakespeare’s Sonnets, 43 [13-4]
Recorded in the Stationer’s Register is Shakespeare’s first (published) poem, Venus and Adonis, June 18, 1593.
Jupiter and Sun, some kind of fun.
Gemini: I pulled on a fishing shirt, one of those sportsman shirts, with long sleeves and tabs, ventilated mesh, and that one shirt? It has a fancy collar that unfolds and covers the neck, in the back. Don’t use it much, the color is a little bright for a sunny day shirt. I reached into the pockets, as I was loading them up with fishing travel stuff, lip balm, sun screen, jerky. I fished a piece of plastic out of one breast pocket.
I could tell, just looking at the trash, it was a top of a sealed bait bag that I used more than a year ago. We were wade fishing that weekend, and I ripped open the stinky sauce worms, shad-looking things, and not wanting to litter, I put the plastic shard in a ziplock pocket on that shirt. Shirt’s been washed and worn, several more times. Just never checked that pocket. I could tell, exactly where I was, what bait, what fishing rod, the ten-pound test mono line I was using, everything exactly the way it was. From a single scrap of plastic? Like me, and that scrap of plastic, something will flood your Gemini memory. I’d like to think of it as a placeholder for the mind. Here’s the trick: cash in on that significance.
Cancer: Right after sunset, look to the west. There, just above the horizon, there’s Venus and Mercury, rather close, blinking on and off like the tail lights on a commercial aircraft.
The planets tend not to blink, but there’s still a coded message, whether you can really see those twin flames burning in the night. The planets are “reflected” light, why they don’t blink. Venus is about making pretty, and Mercury is about making noise, and that means the two are about making a pretty noise. Depends on how you want to interpret that. The inherent flaw, though, is that the Sun is still in Gemini, and the Sun won’t leave Gemini without one more Big Deal. How big you let that become? Up to your fine Cancer self. However, I’d point out, this is still a time to make a pretty noise, despite the Gemini influence, might not want to make that a pretty big noise, just work on “pretty.”
The (mighty) Leo: It happened again, the “Retail Failure” loop. I was looking at a set of stereo headphones. I’ve been using various earbuds, then earbuds with a mic, for maybe half-a-dozen years. I tried headphones and headphones with a boom mic, but I quit using them some time back as the earbuds weigh less, and are way less obstructive. More portable, and work with a variety of phones. So the “Failure Loop” started when I was got an electronic circular — email advertising. I stopped. I looked. I shopped. I looked at various forms of headphones, with an attached mic, and my finger hovered over the BUY NOW button. I have to pause and remember that I blame a bald patch from ripping off a set of headphones, like I was shopping for, and having some of my hair go with the headphones. Another big reason to like earbuds. In the last seven years, what have you forgotten about, mighty Leo? Before you hit the button to execute your command, what have you forgotten? Like me, and how I don’t like headphones?
Virgo: I have a couple of digital images I captured while I was fishing. Or heading out to fish, to be most precise. Always have to be exact with a Virgo. The images are cloudy, indistinct. Shapes and forms, and in one case a series of bright lights against an inky black night backdrop. What this is about, seeing a way through the fog. There’s a heavenly alignment that gives your Virgo self a boost. Night vision? Maybe. Ability to see through the fog? Maybe. Or, like that fog-shrouded morning, I was working with a buddy and he knows the waterways. He was able to push us through, no hint of trouble, no worry. There’s a very-Virgo-like skill set involved. Part of this is from patient repetition, and part of this is from knowing that that you know the way. Part of this is from the idea you’re on familiar ground, or water, and you know the best way. Looks like you’re lost. You’re not. Stick with what you know, there’s a simple way through the hazy morning.
Libra: As the Sun and Jupiter get closer together, there’s a sense of something good about to happen, Libra. Then, too, there’s the sense that this is twin-inspired, the Gemini thing? Things? Two of everything? As a Libra, let’s take two items that don’t normally appear next to each other, like Peanut Butter and Chocolate? Wait, that’s been done. How about a Tex-Mex High-Tea? I haven’t worked out the details yet. Tex-Mex is traditional repast in my country. Grease, meat, and wilted lettuce, maybe some guacamole, and cheese. Grease. Corn and flour tortillas. Sweet Tea. All apart of the deal. How to combine that with a delicate tasting of exotic teas and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off? I don’t know. I haven’t worked out the details. I’m not a Libra. I dated one once, but that doesn’t count. Combine two elements that don’t belong next to each other.
Scorpio: “Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for dinner.” It just fits with the political times. My dear Scorpio, you are outvoted. With Saturn, the odds are against you. I don’t even know who it was that I was quoting, I just snipped it because it fit the current Scorpio dilemma. Yes, and in as much as I prefer to think of Scorpio as a wolf, let’s face this situation, you’re the lamb. Outvoted, and outnumbered. Reminds me of another famous Scorpio, a Texas Ranger, and he showed up to quell a riot. “You only sent ONE Ranger?” He drawled an answer, “Well, ya’ll only had one riot.” So there it is. Certainly outnumbered and you’ll feel like the wolves are at the door. There’s a corollary to the first comment, though, about liberty and maybe, Scorpio’s answer to this week’s Scorpio-tinged trial and tribulation? “Liberty is a well armed lamb contesting the vote.”
Sagittarius: Real Turkish Coffee is an amazing elixir. It is ground coffee, not too dark of a roast, sometimes there’s a hint cardamon. In a tiny espresso cup, there’s about a tablespoon-sized serving of ground coffee, spice and maybe a teaspoon or so of sugar. Properly, the coffee is boiled, then poured into a tiny serving cup. Locally, it was just the grounds and sugar and boiling water, yet, it was the perfect combination and flavor. Good, good Turkish coffee. Hint of spice. Enough sugar to knock the edge off the brew, but not so much sugar that it comes across as cloying and sweet.
That single shot of Turkish Coffee, there was about a third of it left over int he cup. Grounds. Fine-grind, boiled, soaked and finely saturated, but not fit for consumption. The trick, like the Turkish Coffee? Leave that last bit in the bottom As a Sagittarius, we tend to try to drink it all down. No, leave the grounds in the bottom of the demitasse.
Capricorn: Which Shakespeare character are you? Today, now? I know one Capricorn who wants to be Shakespeare’s Richard III, and there’s another Capricorn who thinks she’s Lady MacBeth. All the time. Bother rather tragic characters, but there’s a certain nobility in that tragedy. Besides, there’s also a twisted sense of humor at play within Capricorn.
Instead of picking the real, tragic characters, let me suggest a different kind of form to pick. Puck. Midsummer’s Night’s Dream. A truly comic character, as he keeps doing what his boss tells him to do, and yet, nothing seems to turn out correctly, not at first. However, it all turns out well, in the end. Puck’s your choice this week.
Aquarius: Shakespeare’s Sonnets are curious, at best. The dedication might be to the patron of the art, some wealthy benefactor who paid for the sonnets, or the sonnets might’ve been a labor of love, directed towards a mysterious lover. Again, there’s precious little evidence to support many claims. They also invented a new art form, or rather, tweaked an existing form. The “Shakespeare” sonnet has a different rhyming pattern than the classical form, as previously established in the European Renaissance.
As an Aquarius, now, more so than ever before, is a time to experiment and play with existing forms. Tweaks, test, push the limits, but stay within the established form. Like “English” sonnet form compared to “Classical” sonnet form. There’s not much difference, both still have 14 lines. It’s a subtle shift in the inside patterns, that’s all. Try experimenting within the established forms.
Pisces: I was at a social event. Fishing buddy looked up at me, at my earrings, and he noted, “Cool. Spinners.” His reference could work on several levels. In one way, he was addressing local coloration and suggesting it appeared like the spinning rims frequently observed on low-rider inspired rides. Since the earring themselves were handcrafted from “Colorado Blades,” a kind of lure, he could also be referring to spinning bait, the silver spoons that attract Black Bass. Could be either of those referents. Could also be something else. I didn’t delve into the meaning, just had a laugh, and moved on. The more I thought about it, later, the more fun it became, trying to determine just what he meant. I can take time and enjoy the mental game, guessing at meaning. I’m not Pisces. As a Pisces? Do what I did the first time, laugh, acknowledge the comment, and move on. There is no time to labor with guessing games. If something isn’t obvious? Don’t dwell on it.
What do you think he meant, “Cool. Spinners.”
Aries: “What dessert are you?”
My comment?
“?”
Just a question mark inside quotations. That should explain me. The deal was, it’s a friend, she’s a reader, and her way to break the ice? “Calorie free, describe yourself as a dessert.” As far as taxonomy goes, it’s fairly effective and slightly off-key way to start. I start with birthdays; works for me. Dessert? So what dessert are? Just imagine yourself as a dessert. Cream Brulée? A sticky, sweet pudding with a hardened top, you have to crack to get to? Ice cream, you try to present tough exterior, but the slightest amount of heat, and you just melt?
I picked Pecan Pie. A little nutty on top, and crusty on the outisde, sweet on the inside.
What dessert is Aries, this week?
Taurus: At a very minimum, I’ll carry two fishing poles when I fish. Frequently, the boat’s pole holders, there’s room for at least six or 8, and usually, those will all be full. I prefer to keep to two pole rigged the same way, so if one breaks, gets snagged, hung up, snarled, twisted, or catches a fish, there is still one more, ready to go, just like it. Drop the unusable pole and start fishing with the spare. I tend to carry at least two poles, but more often, I’ll have six or 8 with me, just to cover any number of situations. Two for top water, two for just below the surface, like topwater, but diving, up to a foot below, and then two with weights. Sinkers. Depth finders. As this week unrolls in Taurus land, you’ll need to double up on all your preparations.
I suggest you carry two of everything you might need. Two.
At the very minimum, I’ll carry two fishing poles.
