- “Every bondman in his own bears
The power to cancel his captivity.”
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar [I.iii.101]
Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 7.17.2014
Cancer: Most Cancer individuals have a “hoarding gene.” While not as fully developed in some, others have this insane need to collect stuff that will never be thrown away. “Hoarding Gene,” is what I call it. Having not fully mapped the human genome, I can’t point to an exact spot on the double helix that is our spirit in chemical form, and say, “There, that’s the hoarding anomaly.” As birthdays close out this weekend, as we celebrate the last of the Cancer’s Solar Returns, as you collect, collate and coordinate all the good wishes, trinkets and so forth? Think about what you can unload. Good time to get rid of stuff, coming up. Rather than “unload,” I prefer to think of it as “recycling,” as I find worthy charities, or just fishing buddies, and unload the stuff on them. There are sentimental items and good wishes we like to carry forward, but now? By this next week? Be careful, pick and choose what you want to carry forward.
The (mighty) Leo: Get ready. Early next week? You know what’s going to happen? As the Sun enters the majestic sign of Leo?
The Sun lines up with Jupiter. This is good. This is very good. As the mighty Leo, though, we have some preparations. Stuff to do. Things to do. People to do. Stuff. Needs your copious attention, now. For a few rare Leo individuals, particularly the ones born in late July, this is critical timing. Spend the next couple of days, “Getting ready.” Getting ready for what? What do you want to be the big birthday surprise? Something devoutly wished for? Sure, then get ready to accept it. Have to make room for whatever “it” is, right? That’s what I mean by get ready. So, stop reading this and get ready.
Virgo: One client, not long ago, considerably younger than me, she suggested, “I hate email. Just hate it.” Had to do with processing, and the immediacy of the event, and still, like regular letters, e-mail doesn’t need to be processed right away. Helps, and I’ve been known to answer email queries in minutes or less, depending on circumstances. Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes, it takes weeks. I was digging through a spam sieve, and came across a note from a client from almost three months ago. Turned out to be not important, but that’s just the quirks of electronic communications. I love email, but I have a method for dealing with it. Bayesian filtering takes care of over a thousand pieces of junk mail, while I hand sort the few incoming messages. I keep the list short, partly through my attention span’s attrition, and partly through actively clicking, skimming, or reading, then deleting, or filing, as need be.
Is it important? Filing and sorting, and putting it into priority, what this is about. Me? I prefer e-mail.
Libra: Been a long six months with this Mars influence. He’s finally headed out of here for good. Or out of here for a little while. Means there’s some relaxation you can start thinking about. Then, too, there’s something else up and coming, I’d like to prep your Libra self for: thump.
It’s like a big speed bump. If you’ve ever driven one of those crap-box econo-rent cars, you know what I’m talking about, little car, sub-compact, gets about 40 miles to a gallon of gas, but has less room than my buddy’s glovebox in his monster truck. The little cars are close to the ground, and I was afraid, after creeping over one speed bump, that the front end of the car was going to be scraped off, and I’d owe for that damage. Rent cars, especially in my hands, get some kind of abuse. Still, I prefer to return the car intact, as I rarely opt for the expensive insurance upgrade. So here’s the deal: there’s one of those speed bumps fast approaching. You’re not in your car, so you can, if you want, scrape the undercarriage. However, just because it’s not yours, there could still be some ramifications. Might want to slow down.
Scorpio: It’s been many long years since I’ve used a boat with a pull-rope starter. At one point, it was a de facto standard, the outboard motor with the pull-start. I haven’t seen one in a while, although, no, can’t recall any lately. More a curiosity and historical relic rather than a common sight. I know one Bass Pro Shop has a few on hand, and there’s a restaurant on the Coastal Bend that’s got one as a center conversation piece, but no, rarely, if ever, do we see pull-start outboard motors anymore. Yet, as a metaphor, this is about a reluctant motor, with a very physical pull-start rope, and as a Scorpio, you keep yanking and getting pissed off, and keeping yanking, and keep getting more pissed. Here’s the trick, before this weekend is up? Wrap the rope around, and spin the motor with no intention of starting it. You’re going to do this three time, to clear the cylinder, clear the carburetor, clear the plugs. Three time, you have to yank, but, because these are just trial runs, trial pulls? No need to put your arm into it. Finally, come Monday? Give it a strong pull and watch you succeed. Three trials, then a hard yank full force. Those old outboard motors are notoriously finicky.
Sagittarius: One of my most frequent, early, assessments of Sagittarius? It’s the sign of the cold pizza. Like us some pizza when it’s hot, and like us some pizza even better when it’s cold, like, the next morning, even three days later. A slice of two-day old pizza, left in the cardboard box, in the ice box? Just fine for a nutritious lunch.
There’s up and coming obstacle. What I’m suggesting is a well-timed pause.
Like me, taking a moment to reach into the ice box and grab a slice of pizza that might be four days old. Does it matter? Not really. Does this have to be pizza? Again, no, but it’s a convenient metaphor to grab. As such, it also looks like this something leftover from recent events, just not quite yet totally discarded. Cold pizza, it’s not just for breakfast anymore.
Capricorn: There are a number of Law Enforcement Officials in my files. Cops, usually. Good cops. Curious about horoscopes and whatever, but not so enamored that they live their lives by this stuff. Works for me, as a number of the officers have affirmed my faith in the system, and left me assured it does work. In this day of electronic, digital fingerprint tracking, there’s an odd part of the traffic stop, watch for it. Even with dashboard cams, there’s still some old-school ways left: patting the taillight. What that does? Leaves a set of the officer’s fingerprints on the car. Proof that there was contact. Personally, I just figured it was more like patting the rump of horse, as you move around them. Only real horse people will understand that. Still, it’s a familiar gesture. In our electronic surveillance modern world, the old ways are almost relics. However, watch, sometime, see if you notice the officer patting the backside of the car, on some occasions. There’s a relic in Capricorn, too, an out-of-date (according to some) way of transacting a form of Capricorn business. Cash, perhaps, patting the rump of the car, perhaps, or some other archaic way of initializing then completing a transaction. Observe the old ways, as they sometimes work best.
Aquarius: Lots of water, lots of air, that’s the elemental part of the horoscope. Even some Aquarius-fueled fire, what with the ongoing Uranus in Aries thing. Means there’s going to be a some clarity in this next couple of days. You’ll see an issue, an item a person in a more visible light, that is, a more visible light to the Aquarius intellect. The trick, at some point, in these next couple of days? Can’t delve into the, “Why didn’t I see that before” questioning. There’s no room for that, and no room for self-recrimination, either. Have to push ahead. You’ll see it more clearly. Once you do see it more clearly? Follow the lead and the correct (Aquarius) direction. Might be a course adjustment to your direction, with new information and new insight, but now that you can see more clearly?
Pisces: Third quarter moon. Wish, dream, figure, connive. Try it this way, no try it this way, no, try it that way. One of my buddies had a signature line that ran something like, “Life happens when you’re making plans for something else.” I’m too lazy to look it up, but that’s close enough. Make plans, then check those against your work schedule, then adjust that for the solar-lunar fishing charts I use, and then, check back with the buddies, and see who’s available when, and then, plot a little to make it a more attractive offer, and see? This is going to take a little bit of planning, adjustment, more planning, and then, be open to a totally different destination than you thought you were planning for, in the first place. Be adjustable. Not the end of anything, just, it takes some fiddling to make it all work.
Aries: Not long ago, I stumbled through the expensive, high-end grocery place. Not even a store, more like a food boutique. One of the few items I gathered while I was there? Artisan Salami. I’d never had expensive sausage. That might not be true, as I’ve enjoyed the bounty of my buddies’ hunting, usually venison sausages, but wild boar, as well. Tasty. That’s a situation where it doesn’t pay to figure out the weekend away, the cost of the trip, the ammo, the game processing, that’s not exactly cheap sausage. Neither was the Artisan Salami.
I finally figure out that the meat was rich, tough, but quite rich, and I got to where I would only eat a single slice. It looked like it was straight out of a boucherie, with the string ties, and dusty white coating. Fun with food. The trick, because the actual sausage was so so rich, the secret was to not eat more than a single slice. Maybe two. No more, at a time. It was dark, burgundy red, very little fat, flour-dusted case, spiced and strong. I’m not sure if the meat had been compressed, but that might be the situation. Great stuff, just, in moderation. One slice on a cracker, that’s all. Moderation. Taste. Just one slice at time, this week. Just one slice at time: it’s too rich, otherwise.
Taurus: Watching a cooking demo on a short online video clip, I got this great idea on a meal I could make. It looked easy, just about a four minute clip, not any longer than what I used to do as a weekly astrology update. Short, quick, easy. Instruction in the video made it look so simple. With a wind-up like that, it’s easy to see how this went.
My kitchen was disaster area, with meal, chicken parts, assorted oils and lubricants, and spices I’ve never heard of before, all of that was scattered throughout the area. “Roll it out and pop it in the pan,” and the video cuts to the next frame, “you pull it out and press a fork into the top,” and there’s the completed dish.
The steps, it seems, that video was heavily edited. Made it look so easy, when, with my experience, it wasn’t easy at all. Not at all. There’s another caption that could also help explain the way this works, “It’s not like it is in TV.” Especially on the cooking shows. I watched, one time, the hostess slid a pan into the oven, commercial break, and two minutes later, the pan came out, golden brown top. Again, it was supposed to bake for 45 minutes. Two minutes. How do they do that? It’s not as easy as they show it to be. Which is why, if you get a chance? Read the instructions, look at the recipe, and make sure your Taurus self understands all the steps. It’s not like the video, at all.
Gemini: I think the secret to Gemini success in the next couple of days, what works well? A storage unit. Preferably, an off-site storage unit, like, a large closet, some place other than here. The old and tired expression, “Out of sight, out of mind,” comes into play, and I’m balancing a couple of different ideas and various astrological influences, notably, Sun/Jupiter approaching conjunction (Leo), Venus/Mercury quick in Cancer, and so forth.
A simple solution is an off-site storage unit. Pile that stuff up, some place else. I’ve seen these range in size, depends on the Gemini, from not much more than a closet to a whole two-car garage. One buddy, several, really, use storage units just like that for fishing boats. Along the Texas coast and near several local lakes, there will “Boat Storage” units available. Again, the same principle I want to apply to all Gemini, for your foreseeable future? Get a storage unit. Off-site storage. “Out of Gemini sight, out of Gemini mind.”
- Aperture: ƒ/1.8
- Camera: iPad Pro (11-inch)
- Flash fired: no
- Focal length: 3mm
- ISO: 64
- Shutter speed: 1/60s
