- “…if their heads had any
Intellectual armor, they could
Never wear such heavy head-pieces””
- Shakespeare’s Henry V [III.vii.133-5]
Jupiter is heading into Leo —
Horoscope starting July 10, 2014
Cancer: The ever-present crush of technological innovation, this pervasive influence? I went to a “lap-top” only set up some years ago, and now? I’m almost to the point where I can do everything on a over-sized phone. Not quite a tablet, but more than just a phone. I need a little more screen real estate than most smart phones provide. The goal is to be able to be in a reclining form, like, in bed, propped up, with the device in my hands, maybe watching TV, and still being tied into the inter-webs and stuff. E-mail, messages, texts, plus looking at my favorite websites, all of that. Connected but not too connected? It’s probably bad Feng Shui to be thusly connected and intertwined in bed. Still, it has benefits. You want to be connected but not too connected. Be available, but not too available. Be aware but not up-to-the-second on the news. There’s a balance point, and I can’t get there, but I’m not a Cancer, and as such, you can get there. Or search out, at least, for starters. Connected, but not too connected.
The (mighty) Leo: “Tibetan Tea,” sometimes called Butter Tea, is common beverage, high in the mystical lands of Tibet. Ingredients? As the name would imply, it’s basically butter, salt, and tea, with several variations on the theme, ghee, spices, heavy cream, and other flavors can be added. This isn’t really about the contents of the Tibetan Tea, it has more to do with the traditional serving method.
In a traditional setting, I’m guessing that means a Tibetan Buddhist Monastery high in the Himalayas, the way it is served? A monk takes a sip of the tea, then another monk tops off the bowl. That way, the cup of tea is never empty. One BBQ place I know, my ice tea glass is never empty. That’s different, or, maybe not. It’s supposed to make the guest feel welcome. The ritual behind the Tibetan Butter Tea is what makes a difference. There is a similar, if not almost identical, ritual to be observed in Leo, as Jupiter makes a grand entrance, bringing tidings of joy and good fortune.
Virgo: Not every Virgo is a neat freak. However, all of the Virgo women I ever “dated?” Certainly were “freaks,” in a good sense of the word. The “neat-freak” portion of the Virgo chart is what I want to look at. There’s a kind of symbolism that comes with this: making the bed. In part, this is an old trick, left over from military training, a by-product of repeated Feng Shui exposure, and some self-help crap ladled on top. There is a need for order. There is need for structure and order in the Virgo world. There is need for structure, order, and consistency in your perfect Virgo world. Start by making the bed.
This one Virgo? She made the bed, in a hotel room. Motel, really. Seriously. Some place between “making the bed in a hotel room,” and “not making the bed at all,” there is our Virgo balance point. In my case, it’s even simpler. I don’t expend extra energy to make the bed, but after I pop out? I smooth the sheet and thin summer blanket over, so it looks like I made the bed. Perfect balance. Easy, and looks good. So? The message? To obtain some order in the Virgo life? Make the bed. Try it, this week, see what happens.
Libra: Girlfriend, not long ago, we were talking, and she said I was funny the other night. “You woke up, patted me on the leg, told me, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you some coffee,’ rolled over and went back to sleep.” I recall none of the event. Sounds like me. Sure, sounds like something I’d say. In fact, I think I did get up and fix that woman some coffee.
Libra, you know, be nice to them? They’ll be nice back. Big heart. Big — never mind.
This is about innate actions. In my case, it was easy to be nice. Pat her leg, tell her I’ll do something nice for her in a minute. Which, I’m sure I did; although, to be perfectly honest, I can’t recall. Still, the innate action is to be nice, polite-like. True, “nice” is the go-to for Libra, but this week? Might be a little more challenging, but still, well-worth the effort.
Scorpio: You have seven days to pull this off. Okay, six days. No, seven, if this goes live before midnight July 9. Six days. No, seven. Whatever, you’ve got a little less than a week. Action is required. Action backed with mental horsepower. I know you’ve got that. The mental horsepower comes with the start of this time-frame, a certain amount of mental clarity. See the problem more clearly.
I was on a lake, fishing, right after a heavy rain. Surprised me, as the lake is usually churned up and quite muddy after a rain, but this time, a week, two weeks ago? Lake was clear, day after the rain. I could see the shallow bottom and pockets with fish congregating. I’m sure there are pictures on the website of me with fish, someplace. The clarity of the water, surprised me. The clarity of the Scorpio thought, might surprise you. Pick a destination, Pick a route. Pick way through this morass of material that’s been holding you back. Worked for me, last week, might work well for you this next week. Six days. Clarity — use it.
Sagittarius: There’s a federal facility not far from here. It’s surrounded by 8-foot chain-link fence topped with “razor wire.” The fencing is fairly ominous to look at, borderline scary. Serious-looking fence, although, probably, any strong wire cutter would turn that chain-link into butter. Doesn’t stop the perceived, emotional barrier there. With the razor wire on top, with a pointed, razor-sharp barb every six inches? I watched as a sparrow alighted on the top wire. Between two barbs, the bird was blissfully unaware that it was atop a nasty, emotional barrier. Practically, not much of a fence, but the perception was a secure area.
Now, more so than before, we have to imitate the actions of that bird, the little song bird, or sparrow, or whatever it was, in its tidy, brown suit. Fit between the barbs. My perception is a barrier. The bird thought it was a resting place. Which perceptions are we going to go with, mine or the bird’s?
Capricorn: The last award I won was a “Golden Carp Award,” and as the name might imply, I think it was kind of a joke. When I went to look it up, my name was still listed with the Golden Carp Awards, but the web pointer linked to an account I haven’t operated in almost 20 years.
I run an “award free” website, as the bulk of the awards handed out are merely bits of digital ephemera that doesn’t amount to much of a big deal, in real world meaning. I long-ago discovered that, “The best of,” usually means a place or product has peaked, and is no longer of value as the “best of,” for which it just won an award. If you’re feeling like you need an award to justify something in your life, especially, these days, let me know. I can give you an official Fishing Guide to the Stars Award for Excellence as a Capricorn.
Aquarius: A buddy of mine left Austin, driving west. Through the fabled Hill Country, west of Austin, he hit a torrential downpour, like, thunder and lightening, gale-force winds, and then, as the storm blew eastward, just as my buddy dropped out of the hill country onto the wide, flat expanse of the Interstate, he cruised into the desert, fresh from a summer rain. Roll the windows down. I lived in the desert, and I’ve seen this before, the rare moments after a rain. The air smells alive, fresh with the wet creosote, and the wash of rain, puddles being scavenged up by thirsty roots, dead grass turning momentarily green with the hint of moisture. ‘Feast or famine,’ drought or flood, that’s the way the desert’s harsh environments are. At the close of this horoscope, it’s time to roll down the Aquarius windows, breathe in that fresh-washed, high-desert aroma. Get ready, next two weeks hold some brilliant hues as the desert flowers bloom, like they do only once every three years.
Pisces: I was in a coastal town, next to a coastal body of water, dining at a coastal place. I asked the waiter what his sign was, “Pisces,” he said, after he recited a birthday. “Pisces, and I hate water, can you dig it?” As each course was delivered, I delved deeper in a casual way, as, after all, the Texas coast is a casual place. Turns out there was an experience, involving a swimming pool, lack of adequate supervision, and scary few moments with no air.
As far as that lad was concerned, water was only good for mixing with bourbon, and even then, perhaps, water was best only in its solid state. Instead of trying to overcome that fear of water, though, I’d suggest this is one of those times, let’s just embrace whatever that fear is. Got one girlfriend, “I’m afraid of snakes.” That means we will take no trips to the reptile house to look at a pet boa. One of those tree-knot boas would be a cool pet, but no, not even looking with that girlfriend. As a Pisces, you have what some folks would consider an irrational fear, and for whatever reason? Go with that irrational fear. Admit it, embrace it, let it keep you away from snakes, or water, or whatever it is you’re afraid of this week.
- “I don’t have a fear of heights, I have a fear of falling, and even that’s not true, I’m not afraid to fall, I’m just worried about the sudden deceleration caused by impact with the final resting place. That fear is prudent.”
Aries: The expression, “Fish or cut bait,” bears some meaning in my world. I thought it was a bit trite, but I started to bring it out, anyway, just as a reminder. This is less about a binary decision, though, and more about shouldering ahead with some drudge work that needs to be done. One of my favorite fish to catch, down at the coast, is Skipjack. It’s an oily, energetic fish, not much good for anything but bait. Long and slender, the fish are considered “junk” fish by some, but the sport of catching one is fun. They are spirited fighters. Then, there’s use, a skipjack makes great bait, just start slicing. Keeps well on the end of the boat, tough, oily flesh, too many bones and not enough flesh to be a meal, but makes for excellent bait, nature’s prepackaged material. Recycling, as it were. It’s a good day when I land Skipjack early one, as it becomes bait. Then, it’s nothing more than slicing it up, as we go. Not exactly drudge work, but the idea is sound. Starts out that way. Do the drudge work, now. It pays off, like the Skipjack, makes good bait. Fish and cut bait.
Taurus: My traditional attire is simple, all summer long, which, given where I live is about ten months, and anyway, what I wear? Hawaiian (floral print) shirt, shorts and sandals. I wear this to work. I wear this to work out. I wear this to the pool. I wear this fishing. I wear this traveling. I wear it everywhere.
For some years, I wore nothing but two pairs of “river guide” shorts, and to this day, those were the best. Cargo pockets with drainage grommets, mesh pockets, and long enough to be covering everything, black so the looked almost formal, and they could easily withstand a dunk in the pool, creek or seaside, and not show any ill-effects. Drip dry, while on. Works for me. I got wondering, though, as I would meet clients like this, was this the best appearance? For years, I honed my wardrobe to accurately reflect my personality, my inner-landscape, and present an image that most reflects how I would be perceived. Ask yourself, it’s time for a quick, summer wardrobe review, are you presenting the best image? Review what you think people see. Consider changes.
Gemini: Sitting in the car shop, waiting to get the girlfriend’s car inspected. The main mechanic, we’ve exchanged pleasantries, he recognizes me from walking in the neighborhood. A woman comes in, then her mother comes in, and they start discussing maintenance on an older model car. I mention, “Can’t kill those,” because, as far as that one make and model goes, I’ve seen a female driver log over 200K in miles on two different ones, and both vehicles, last I heard, were still operational. The mechanic raised an eyebrow at me, but kept quiet. After the women left, he looked at me, “My ex-wife killed seven of those. Don’t say it can’t be done.” Apparently, his ex-wife was a bit of a hothead, and apparently, according to him, there was a problem with her not understanding the role water and coolant play in keeping a motor from roasting like brisket in a smoker, on a hot summer’s day.
As a Gemini, you do understand what coolant and water do to keep you hydrated on a hot summer’s day? Metaphorically, and, for real?
