- “Unless hours were cups of sack… I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of day.”
- Shakespeare’s King Henry IV, part 1 [I.ii.7-12]
Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 1.8.2015
Capricorn: Bacon Candy. That’s my solution for the Capricorn week, Bacon Candy. I’ve seen Bacon Candy in a number of manners, and I’ve seen “bacon flavored” just about everything. Some more digestible than others. This one place had “Bacon Candy” as an inexpensive horsdouevre. Ordered up some after a brief questioning. It was brown sugar, sea salt, and ancho chili powder rubbed on thick-cut bacon, then the treated, uncured bacon was baked until crisp, upended, and served in flute (stemware glass), with baby arugula, and baby spinach. Pretty good for something that simple, yet evoked calculated complex combinations of flavors. That was a successful use of bacon, near amazing. The secret was in the chili powder “rub.” I detected more than ancho in that flavor, but I was mute.
Spin this around as Mars moves. This isn’t really about bacon, you know, it’s about interesting combinations and looking at a staple item in a new light. “Bacon Candy,” yes it works well.
Aquarius: The briny smell of the sea, the tang of salt in the air, and the backwater marshes? Redolent in effluvia, the sulfurous stench that speaks to me of fecundity unbeknownst to people not familiar with the coastline and its effervescent, rich bio-diversity. Rich in mineral resources, rich in almost every aspect of life. Smells like aggregate pelican poop, too.
The briny smell of salt water marsh, the tang of the sea against the fecund, and sulfurous aroma of the morning, a winter morning on the Gulf Coast. Mist, fog, low-flying, ground-hugging clouds, water vapor, obscure the images. In a similar manner, that low, clinging, almost cloying fog? Just dense water vapor from the surf crashing into the shore, almost lifted up for the waves and borne inland, still obscuring the cold, weak winter light as the sun tries to burn through.
Eventually, the sun does bore a hole in the Capricorn cloud cover, and eventually you’ll see clearly. However, like along the Gulf Coast, it’s still winter-like and still shrouded in that dense water vapor. Can’t quite make out what’s just up ahead, nope, can’t see clearly at the moment.
Wait.
Pisces: Attributed to Richard Branson (Cancer)? “Anything that can’t be described on the back on an envelope is rubbish.” Track my web site’s design, over the years, and you’ll find that I adhere to that advice myself. The quote itself is apocryphal, as in, I can’t find a real attribution for it. Doesn’t mean that the sentiment isn’t real, and being a Cancer Sun Sign, the alleged speaker would be sensitive. As a Pisces, or addressing the Pisces elements in your chart? Think about that comment, real or fabricated, “Anything that can’t be sketched out on the back of an envelope is rubbish.” Leftover terminology, as envelopes are headed into the field of “Dead Tech,” as will be the term, “Thumbnail sketch.” However, the idea is to keep the idea simple. If the problem, if the solution, if the Pisces answer is anything more than a quick a sketch on the back of an old envelope that was headed for recycling? It’s too much and the idea must be refined, narrowed down, remove extraneous crap, trim the idea. The solution is simple but don’t let that Pisces mind over-think it.
Aries: Sweet Tea is a truly “Southern” affectation. Oddly enough, the most perfect rendition of Sweet Tea, the best sweet tea I’ve ever tasted? Bill Miller’s BBQ, located in San Antonio. The BBQ, not bad, just not outstanding in way, shape, or form. The tea, however? Stuff of legend and rightfully so. As I understand the recipe is basically one industrial-strength tea bag, the quart-size Lipton, or generic equivalent. That is added to boiling water, along with a half-pound of refined, white sugar. Super-saturated sweet. The balance point, that one chain has it figured perfectly, is tea bag infusion, sugar (super saturated), and served chilled, over ice. Sweet enough to accent the BBQ, not too sweet, but certainly sugary goodness. The trick is that balance point, the flavor between tea and sugar. Not complicated in its own right, still, unmatched by any other place I’ve ever tried. No one does sweet tea as well. I’m sure, dig around online someplace, and there will be the exact recipe that the chain uses. It’s never as good, though as buoying it from one of the stores. Just seems better. The trick is that balance point, boiling water, sugar, tea. Three items that need to be in proper proportion. Two choices for Aries, this next few days, achieve the balance point between all three items, like the chain does. Or, be like me, not an Aries, and take my lazy-man’s way out: go to the store and buy their tea. Either solution works, but the goal is to achieve that delicate balance point.
Taurus: Tickling tensions are the problem. The solution is to avoid scratching the (Taurus) itch. Good luck with that. Last fall, I was inshore coastal fishing, and there was a plague of flies. I’m sure there are some pictures someplace. Previously, I’ve never really needed anything but sunscreen when fishing. Combination of mild fall weather, proximity to the verdant, rich salt-marshes, and perhaps some dead stuff rotting on the shoreline. Big, old, noisy horse flies. The back side of Padre Island?
Got an image? Slow the bay boat down, coast to a stop, start fishing, and then, a single fly, followed by a horde, rather inconvenient, for me, swatting, shooing, and fishing. Finally, we changed locations, opting a little further out, so there was no fly problem. It’s not major problem, it’s a little one. Shifting Taurus location might help.
Gemini: The letter “I” appears twice in the word “Gemini.” Some astrologers call it the sign of the twins. In my own estimation, Gemini, Air Sign? Mutable Air? All over the place. Places. Twins doesn’t cover half of it.
There are dozens of little people running around inside the Gemini psyche. Not so much “multiple personalties” as diverse segments of the same person. Branches like a tree. All over the place, and yet, at their very cores, all the Gemini are but a single element that’s a composite of all those little things.
As this weekend arrives, one topic, one issue, one task, probably an onerous chore, needs to be attempted in good, Gemini fashion. The goal, harness all those divergent Gemini voices and get the whole Gemini team, all of them, to pull in one direction. Tackle that single, undesirable task. Goal, destination, chore. Job. Coherent effort, as the planets can get all that Gemini energy into a single force, working in concert with each other.
Twins? Ha! Tell that to the other 43.
Cancer: Before the weekend gets here, you have to evaluate the Cancer (Moon Child) situation. Stop. Ask a very simple question, full moon and all? Is this worth the trouble? Is this a fight, a Cancerian struggle worthy of the name, “Cancerian trouble?” Fight worth fighting? Cause worth devoting that amount of energy to? Does the situation warrant that much energy?
Way I see this, from the outside, looking in? It’s not worth that much trouble for your gentle, sweet, delicate Cancer effort. Not worth it. Plus, with the added advantage of knowing that Mars shifts into Pisces? I also know, as Mars Squares Saturn, you’ll see this situation in a new light, and you’ll feel a lot better about not engaging. No, as it will probably turn out, the fight isn’t worth the energy.
The (mighty) Leo: Good friends will come at 3 in the morning and bail your drunken ass out of jail. There’s a catch as we all need friends like that, the 3 AM phone call we all dread, the slurred speech, “Dude, I’m in jail….”
I can easily count on my Leo friends to be there, at 3:45, not happy, but with bail money. Phone buzzes, mechanical voice, “Will you accept a collect call from (county detention center, city jail, etc.)” Lots of astrological crap going on, but it doesn’t rightfully fall on the majestic Leo’s back. Therefore, you’re the one we call.
There’s one exception, I’ve got one Leo buddy, and him? I wouldn’t call him. We’re close. I would expect him to be in jail with me.
“Damn! That was fun! Do it again next time?”
Yeah, but let’s not get caught, next time, okay?
Virgo: It’s either a magic trick, or it’s a trap. Might be both, but I tend to see this, ultimately, as more smoke and less substance. As Mars moves in Pisces, that’s opposite from your good, Virgo self. Mars will, it’s not happening yet, but Mars will align with Neptune, and that spreads confusion. Makes it hard to see the real, underlying issue. Hides the facts in plain sight, because, well, where better to hide stuff than right where everyone can see it, am I right?
With this confusion, next two weeks, or so, as the good little Virgo that you are? Pause and think about this. Are you focusing on the core issue? Are you addressing the real root of the problem? Is this a big complication or a little one? Are you mad at me for all the questions?
Timing is rather important, and the most critical part of our timing is to let Mars slide on past Neptune before your Virgo self attacks the problem. Like a puff of smoke, dissipating? Wait until you can see clearly. “I can see just fine right now. No, wait, it looks like it changed…”
- One of my favorite images, archetype image at that, is an old, fake velvet and black light color poster. It has two caricature vultures, long raptor beaks, slumped shoulders — wings really — and the forlorn quality of sad, and desolate, place. The American Desert SouthWest. That’s the image. The two cartoon birds are sitting in a dead tree. The line under the this pair of buzzards is simple, “Patience, my ass, I’m going to kill something soon.” This is repeating and recurring theme, over and over, for me. It was the kind of a poster that would be in the back room of a truck stop, leftover from years gone by, and slightly frayed. Maybe faded a bit, with age, left unadorned, tacked up and forgotten. I can’t source my image, as it’s been with me most of my professional career. However, it resonates, whenever I invoke the term, “Patience.”
Libra: The way I first heard it? Old girlfriend was watching me looking at fishing poles and matching a fishing pole to an appropriate fishing reel. “Accessories, it’s just like accessories — they all have to match, right?” The first time, I just nodded assent. The second time, I started to describe the various uses for different types of fishing poles, and this last time? I just nodded again. Accessories, like a good pole and reel? They have to match. I’m sounding sexists again, and I’m just relating what my experience has been, and how this benefits the Libra? This is a time to match items. This is a time to do that Libra “Eye for color,” or employ that innate “sense of design,” or whatever you want to call you Libra tastes.
Scorpio: Right before Xmas, I had a package delivered, via FedUp, to my PO box. Got the little confirmation thing, and all. I made my way to the Post Office, and the first employee, kind of a man of small stature and big opinion of himself, he looked up at me, then proceeded to explain that the package was there, just not on the correct shelf, and he couldn’t get it.
I thanked him and left. No supervisor, no customer service complaint, not worth it. Technically, letter-of-the-law, he was correct. A minor functionary with big problems. Or whatever. I went back the next day, saw some of the regular employees I almost know by name, certainly by sight, with an easy smile, and polite, “please” and a heartfelt, “thank you.” Took some digging and the supervisor who eventually emerged with Xmas package, it was a gift for a girlfriend, that supervisor pointed out that the label was kind of misleading, and I’d have to agree.
Now, if I’d complained about the little man with the big attitude? That package might not have made it to me at all, or might’ve been kicked around. Also: in the future, packages might not be delivered on time. So here’s the deal, as Scorpio, follow exactly what I did, the first guy shut me down? I just went back — the next day — and got someone who would happily help me. I never said anything to the little guy that was combative. (Bigger hint? Don’t go there.)
Sagittarius: “Brave men don’t kill dragons; brave men ride dragons!” Yes, probably a tag line from a movie or YA thing. I lifted the line from a friend, and I have no idea where she got it, maybe an internet meme. Still, there was a portion of the message itself that resonated with this week’s Sagittarius. It’s about fears. It’s about things that scare us. It’s about facing those fears. Under the waning aspects of the Moon, and as Saturn and Mars form a tight square, there’s a fear that bubbles up in Sagittarius. The tang of metallic fear, the distant taste of blood and battle? Ex-wives, ex-lovers? Spiders, snakes, roaches? All depends. I’m not sure what your personal Sagittarius dragon is, but instead of hiding? Ride that sucker.
