Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 11.21

“A motley fool”

Shakespeare’s As You Like It [Act II, scene vii]

Sagittarius: And play the fool we shall! As the mighty Sagittarius, which we are, and mighty foolish at times, which we are, there is the question, what is our best course of action? I have no fear about being wrong, not anymore. I’ve been wrong more often than right. This doesn’t bother me, not now.

In the United States, it’s a holiday weekend, week, and specifically, for Sagittarius, doesn’t matter where you are, this is a holiday week, next seven to ten days. Use the American holiday excuse, if you like, or just admit that you’ve temporarily taken leave of your senses, and our Sagittarius selves can’t be bothered with the troubling details — not at this moment — which might last, as I suggested, seven to ten days. Just consider the phase of the moon, the idea that the world is on a temporary holiday, and brains have been left behind. Once you grasp those details, the rest of this is easy to figure out by not figuring it out.

Capricorn: I’ve been spinning web pages on the inter-webs for a long time. Ain’t my first rodeo, you know. My sites are built upon noble ideals, with a foundation in creativity, hard work, perseverance, and usable (accessible) data. Might not always hit the mark on that last point. I’ve been assured, more than once, that some of my meandering and wandering points fall short of the intended mark. Which reminded me of this week’s Capricorn special message.

There is nothing that has to be done right now, nothing that can’t wait for a few days. A few days. Two, three, what does a “few days” mean to you? Tomorrow? Next week? I hope what I’ve suggested is nebulous enough that you don’t jump on this right now. That’s not going to work on your favor — the right now action. There will be one — there’s always one — who will call me since an e-mail takes too long, and that one Cap will complain as there’s an action that needed to be executed, not today, but like, last week. Slow down. Use a little bit of the Venus calm to assess a situation before you jump. Venus — halfway through Capricorn right now.

Aquarius: The label, sounds like the fine print, but the big sign? It was a beachwear store, on the coast? “STATE LAW AND STORE POLICY: ALL SWIM SUIT SALES ARE FINAL.” Rather strong message, and the only reason anyone in a lazy coastal fishing hamlet would bother to put up a sign like that? Must’ve been faced with the question, or customer service issue, over and over. Repeatedly. There’s an issue in Aquarius. Dig through the aforementioned fine print, and find that one disclaimer that serves you well in the next few days. Doesn’t have to be much, just a simple sentence fragment that warns about the same thing you’ve been warning people about for the last few weeks. “Wet Paint.” Do Not Touch. Whatever it is? Helps to have a sign to let people know you’re tired of telling them what to do. Or not do, whatever the applicable Aquarius situation is. “No, over here!”

Pisces: I slipped a new set of ear buds into my ears. I set out to walk a ways, post office, afternoon coffee, just stretch my legs and such. Between clients and writing horoscopes, and then, fiddling with the charts? Thinking, talking, analyzing stellar influences? None of this is really that easy. Intriguing, sure, but easy? That’s why, when I can, I take an afternoon walk, long, short, something to break it all up into manageable pieces.

The new ear buds have “Patented Bass Response!” No idea what that means, not in the real world, but what I did notice? New noises in old songs. Music I’ve heard over and over? Songs that are stuck in the “replay again and again” mode? New noises. New nuances to an old tune. All from a slightly different way of listening to the same old material. “Same old same old.” There’s a simple, easy, and illuminating change you can make, Pisces dear. I’m not sure — exactly — what it is. Could be as simple as a new set of ear buds with patented bass response. Could be new reading glasses. Could be a new computer or phone. Could be a new set of earbuds that cost less than five bucks, all the difference in the world. Simple adjustment, not really a change. Earbuds, not a big change.

Aries: Late November, for me, is a time of change. I switch from shorts to long pants, just jeans, usually, and long-sleeve t-shirts. All I need is throw on a sports coat, and I’m “dressed” as need be. There are a few cool days and that means I need to layers of clothing. Then it warms back up, and I’m back in shorts.

Shorts, sandals and Hawaiian print shirts.

Two distinct and different looks. I like the change-up, as I’ve watched as friends and neighbors always double-take the first time I’m in my winter clothing. Typically? “Wow Kramer, you clean up good.” Yeah, thanks.

As an Aries, it doesn’t matter where you are, this isn’t about weather seasons, it’s about astrological weather, there’s a change needed. Heed the weather call of the planets. In my example, loud print shirts get exchanged for “formal” long-sleeve black t-shirts. Looks dressy to some, and on me? Looks like a totally different person. I’m not talking about a big change, not internally, but on the outside? Simple shift, go from one to another? Helps a lot with the Aries outlook.

Taurus: This isn’t about Apple, but their stupid, little iTunes gift cards used to be on sale. That was the kindest kind of tip I could give. I found those iTunes cards, on sale, about 25%, so four of the $15 cards were about $45. Or, three cards for full price and one was free. Divide it up how you want, work that “retail math magic” to assuage the Taurus mindset. You’re looking for a sale like that. I keep a couple of those cards around as a quick gifts. Forget a Scorpio birthday? Hand out a card. Forget my birthday? Stick a card like that in the mail. See some music online that you really, really want? Remember that you got the card for free, and you can use that last one, just for you. This week is all about how you manage your assets. Taurus assets. Spend a little, spend a lot, doesn’t matter, it’s about how you assess, control, and disburse those assets — those Taurus assets.

Gemini: Ever get the sense you’re forgetting something? Usually, that’s what I’m good for. Usually, that’s where I’m most useful, as I can recall for you, at my regular price, the items that you need recalled. This isn’t about selling you anything, though, this is about you remembering that one, last thing that you needed to pay attention to, that one item you don’t want to forget. This is about jogging your memory so you can recall what’s most important. The sun is in the early part of Sagittarius, ends with my birthday. The rest of the influences are still in Scorpio. Means, my fine little Gemini friend, there’s one thing you’ve forgotten. What is it?

(Hint: my birthday is next week.)

(Double hint — Gemini — look at Sagittarius for focus.)

Cancer: I know it’s the holiday season, I know. Family, friends, good times. One of my old girlfriends, she was the designated family baker. That means, and this is a Cancer thing, she had to work, in the kitchen, over a hot oven, for hours and hours, before the family gathering. She had a high-stress day job, so, as she explained to me, the baking was therapy. I found that both suspect and a little odd.

Work relieves the stress of work? Really? Color me dubious and doubtful. However, as I looked at the start of Sagittarius, I remembered the comment about how the baking helped relieve stress. Whatever works. The holidays add stress, so find some Cancer-Moon-Child form of relief. Like baking, if that works, although, frankly, I don’t get it.

The (mighty) Leo: Years ago, I covered up perfectly good wood flooring with an “Area rug.” Seriously, it was a cheap piece of carpeting, backed with rubber, and able to stand things like kitty puke, and attract the cat hair, and then, serve as buffer when I dropped a coffee cup, which happens more than we would like to admit. Against that thin carpet-like substance? Less damage than you would think. Since the piece of carpet only cost, like, $20 or less? No harm, no foul. Eventually, that piece of carpeting became so stained, so yucky, I rolled it up and tossed it into a dumpster. What sort of amazed me — shouldn’t have — but did — the 5 foot by 7 foot piece of floor? Looked brand new. Clean. Pristine. Nice, even clean enough to eat off it. I wouldn’t, but I could’ve. Maybe.

Two options, as Saturn and the rest of the planets do their things. 1. Put down a piece of cheap carpet, like I did, to cover the area. 2. Pull up whatever that cheap covering was, and marvel out how clean it looks. Take out the trash.

Virgo: There are times when the subtleties need to be teased out of the situation. Then, too, there’s “context.” Without context, there’s a good chance you’ll miss the point. As a Virgo, you hate to miss the point. It’s about the subtleties. All about the nuances you notice, as the shifts, gentle and not always clear, as those start to emerge.

There’s a deft touch required. I watched as a Virgo buddy carefully set the hook on a fish. He ripped the rod backwards, moving the tip in an arc that swept five, maybe ten feet. Hook, with no bait attached, flying through the air. Moments later, I’d put us on a honey of a spot, he did it again, this time, the fish flew out of the air and landed in the water, on the other side of the boat.

“Little too much force?”

“You think?”

Subtleties and context.

Libra: Patience may be a virtue, but I don’t have a lot of it, unless I’m fishing. This shows up in my chili cooking. I start with an empty pot, and I gradually add pieces and parts, chopping, grating, and sampling as I go along. Which is the problem. With my chili, overnight is best. But the actual ingredients? I might start with two cloves of garlic and whole onion, but sampling as I go along? Might only be a clove and half, and who knows? Three quarters of onion? Maybe I start with a dozen Anaheim peppers, but only ten are actually in the chili pot.

Quality control.

Then, too, I sample as I cook. I think of it less as cooking, and more as assembling parts to make a whole that might — and might not — be greater than the assemblage of the component pieces. I’m not a good cook. Freely admitted. I rarely measure. I sort of “eyeball it” and call it good. Makes for interesting dishes, to be sure. My way of “eyeballing” it? Won’t work, not this week. Follow the recipe. Don’t taste it until it’s done.

Scorpio: I guess this is a chance to see how well-oiled the Scorpio machine is. “Lean, mean, fighting machine.” How do you have it worked out? Are you on top of it? There’s a point where this becomes really clear, over the next few days.

Stop. Or pause, maybe don’t stop, but slow down.

Best example I have? I have three sets of tackle boxes. One is “inshore coastal,” one is “big bass lake,” and one is “coastal wading.” Three different kinds of fishing. I’m armed and ready. Different set of tools. I got in from one fishing trip, to the coast, and turned around and hit the lake for some winter bass action. All I had to do was drop off one set of tackle and pick up the next one. Poles were kind of interchangeable. Line was a little light for the inshore, but just right for the finicky, not-so-hungry bass. Pictures on the website, I’m sure, someplace. I have a well-oiled machine, for fishing and changing gears. How well-oiled is your Scorpio self? Change gears, change directions, shift. I think that’s most important, the ability to shift to a different set of tools at a moment’s notice. Shift. Be ready and find out if you’re well-oiled. Or not. Can’t say I didn’t warn you.