“But now are minutes added to the hours;
To spite me now, each seems a moon.”

Shakespeare’s “The Passionate Pilgrim” [XIV.26-7]

Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 4.2

Aries:

These are the final days of this year’s Aries. As a vocal member of the “Aries Fan Club,” I have just a few words of caution. A little matter of understanding what your limits are. The first year I was living in San Antonio, I still thought like I was in Austin, which meant, I figured I could spend the better part of an afternoon, facing into the sun, along the shore of a lake, fishing. Me, no shirt, no hat, just sunglasses, shorts and two fishing poles. No sunscreen, either. The year before, in Austin, this must’ve been three, four years ago, now, the springtime before, I could spend all day in the Central Texas Sun, no problem. That one afternoon in South Texas? In Bexar County, not Travis? Horrible sunburn. I was glowing, glowing red. In April, I’d just come from a long series of events, working every weekend and most weeks, too. Indoors. I was horribly sunburnt. Two factors, I’m older, now, and I spend less times in the great outdoors. (The good news is I write more, but that’s not what this is about.) I’ve learned, from that time, from the horrible burn, peel, splotchy red face? Hat, sunscreen, and maybe less time that first time.

Aries: learn from my mistakes: know — and respect — your limits.

Taurus:

Buddy of mine (Scorpio) does “thermal breast screening.” It’s like the yearly mammography, only, her technique is non-radiological and non-invasive. We were chatting about business, and her comment? “Boobs sell.” I’d hate to think that that was totally true, but in her experience? It is her business?

There’s a whole other side to this question, too, if it were male equivalent? The annual flattening would’ve been less painful, less invasive, and no harmful X-Rays would touch us. Regrettably, my friend’s business of non-invasive, non-radiological breast and cancer screening? Not covered by insurance. This can get ugly, quickly, if we’re not careful. The simplest point? Like she said, “Boobs sell.”

I had to ask, women like looking as much as men? From her demographics and research? Yes. There’s a simple point to this. It isn’t about the FDA, X-Ray technology, or the cure that is more painful and damaging than the disease itself, none of that. Let’s simplify matters in Taurus. With what’s happening? Birthday start next week. Annual check-up things to think about. What is the simplest point to make?

“Boobs sell.” (Her words, not mine.)

Gemini:

Hang around enough of the yoga folks, and I’ll get used to steepling my palms, slight bow, and saying, “Namaste.” I was passing one friend, and we’ve exchanged Jimmy Buffett trivia, notes, and compared shows. Parrot-Head. I’d been around the yogis recently, so I pressed my palm together, bowed slightly, then I murmured, “Fins up.” I had to explain, it’s not “Namaste,” but the universal, “I’m a silly white guy with cocoanut bra and grass skirt in his head, Fins Up!” Universal salute among some of us. Kind of hard to call it a secret handshake when I’m one of many thousands who do this. Not-so-secret symbols. Still, as a universal gesture, palms pressed together?

Cancer:

I kept looking at this planetary arrangement and I kept trying to figure out the simplest message, the one, useful function I could add to this week’s mix. Simplicity. Simple statement. Keep It Simple, Sign. It’s that easy.

For a half-dozen years, or more, I’ve used an iPod plugged into my desktop sound system as a source of “working” music. Background noise, eclectic mix of classical, opera, rock opera, Southern Guitar Rock, Punk, and smooth jazz rhythms. Okay, maybe not so much of the smooth jazz. I can stream music through my phone, over the computer, tablet, and still I no longer have a “stereo,” but any of those would be acceptable. The simplest solution, though, not the most direct, nor the most elegant? I plug that old iPod into the small speakers. This is about a simple solution to an issue, a problem, a thing that isn’t quite right. Plugging the iPod into the speakers isn’t he most elegant, or advanced, and I can’t directly control it with the computer, or a remote, anything. It’s simplest, direct, functional, and it works. Whatever works. Simple. Keep it simple. Whatever works to get by.

The (mighty) Leo:

One evening, I happened across a web page that belonged to a former associate. I was a fan, a twin-flame, we were lovers, and then, it’s all forgotten, all passed by us. I was digging into the web works, looking for a nugget, searching for something to hold onto, and the problem, each page, dated that it was, none of the material that was part of this last decade? Nothing for me to link to. No funny bit. No brilliant observations, no, not a thing. The spark was gone. I spent more than an hour digging around on her website, looking for material. Nothing new. Workman-like prose, serviceable observations, technically correct, but dry. The passion, maybe my passion, was gone. No longer the lively, sparkling material. No link. Nothing that sparks me, not now. As the mighty Leo, that hour or so you just spent reveling in the past? Like me? Looking, thinking, “What if?” Then, pause, there’s nothing there now, right? The part this is behind you now? Like me, like that hour I spent poking through memories, only to turn up nothing? I’d suggest there’ a better way to put the mighty Le o time to use. Memory lane is fine, you have one (1) hour this week, but after that? Moving forward.

Libra:

Blood Moon tonight! Eclipse action on an Aries, and more important, Libra axis. Easter, but what’s most important? Change. Change is good. Change works for our Libra selves, but we all have to remember, that change, just for the sake of change, that isn’t always required. New ideas, new concepts, this cosmic event, or series of events, is part of a revolutionizing set of changes. However, spend enough time around a “Libra-Libra,” and there’s a sense that just change for the sake of change, or what looks like to me as busy-work, that isn’t always required.

There’s a third consideration, too. Later this weekend, next week some time? I’ll be posting images grabbed while fishing along the bays that lead to the Texas Gulf Coast, originally referred to as the Devil’s Elbow. I’m always amazed at the fullness and richness of the biological diversity in that area, where the land meets the water. Little critters, some microscopic, right on up to whales, sharks, and many, many dolphins. The shoreline, the arc of the bays, the beachfronts themselves speak of constant change, ebb and flow, flux with the ever-shifting time and tides. Still, what is under it all is that bedrock foundation of rock. The exterior changes, the foundation remains.

Virgo:

Bookkeeping, record keeping, is one of my least favorite activities. In order to stem the tide, keep the flood of paper to a minimum? I adopted a method from a motorcycle shop I worked in, at the end of every day, the manager tallied the work orders, accessory sales, and coordinated the inventory, doing a fast reconcile on all accounts. End of every business day. End of each and every business day for me, I do a fast accounting, looks at the stack of accumulated papers, bills, notices, receipts, and it takes me three minutes, two minutes, maybe more, maybe less, and I enter that information in the appropriate spreadsheet.

It’s that simple. It’s bookkeeping, not accounting. It’s simple numbers, entered in the correct category. It’s a few moments, some days, there’s nothing, so no work is required. Still, at the end of each and every business day, I stop long enough, build in enough time to handle the chore. However, this few moment’s work? The effort to keep a running reconcile? It pays off well. At the close of any accounting period, I can have accurate appraisal of what’s where. Not necessarily something I like to know, but the data is available.

Had one of those week’s when more was going out than coming in, you know? Still, doing just a few moment’s work, at the close of the business day, that benefits me in a huge way, at the end of the year. Tax time is a breeze. No cartons of papers that have to be shipped off to a bookkeeper who then has talk to the accountant. All of that is done. Borrowed from the old motorcycle shop, third or fourth one I worked at, hit the stack of chores at the end of the day. Get it done, ahead of time.

Scorpio:

Always amazes me what I get blamed for. A former client blamed me for bad advice. The problem being, I suggested a specific course of action, steps, in order, completely illuminated. “Do this, then this, then this. In order. No skipping steps; it’s part of a process.” Client jumped straight to the conclusion with no groundwork, no foundation laid. Somehow, this is my fault. If you don’t follow all of the instructions, then there’s bound to be a problem. Or two. Or the whole idea falls flat on its face, like my observation.

(As a parenthetical aside, I myself rarely follow all the directions, but I’m not the Scorpio, in this example.)

As a good Scorpio, between the twin influences of Saturn and Mars, there’s a clear message about following all of the steps, not just some of them, not just the stuff that looks like fun. All of the pieces are part of the process in making this work. Can’t just jump to the fun stuff. Foundations and groundwork, backgrounds and required filler material. Have to work all of that in, first. Follow the proscribed steps, in order, like I outlined, all the pieces of the puzzle have to be present before we can start putting it all back together again.

Sagittarius:

There are precious few records about the real William Shakespeare. The extant record is from occasional church and spotty legal documents, not much upon which to draw. The works themselves are partially drawn from actors remembering all the lines, rather than a written script. From these bits of circumstantial evidence, whole industries are fueled.

Without approaching the “Who wrote Shakespeare” sub-plot, the academic institutions do well enough with supposition, guesswork, and inference drawn from scanty shards of evidence. Careful, Sagittarius, as we are subject, especially now, to wholeheartedly embrace a belief, a system based upon scant, or entirely fictional, evidence.

I’m not saying that yarns, half-truths, lies, and myths are without value, no that’s not the message. One great thinker observed that fiction was easier to write than non-fiction because fiction made sense. Sometimes the half-truths are more true than the bald truth. Still, the message is about being careful and embracing a whole package of lies based upon just one, tiny, possibly fabricated, bit of evidence.

Capricorn:

“Everything is negotiable.” I’ve set, and broken, more guidelines than I care to explain. I once promised I would never have a paywall for my horoscopes. That ship sailed. I once swore I would never have advertising on my sites. That ship sailed. I once suggested that I wouldn’t entertain paid placements, but one guy made me an offer that I couldn’t turn — far too lucrative for a tiny bit of text placed on one site for five years. He thought it would be indefinite, but I did have a term limit. Funny, to me, it wasn’t even in one of the high-volume pages on the site, but buried back in the tackle box.

“Everything is negotiable.” It’s remarkably easy phrase to let roll off the tongue. It’s also a phrase that I urge my fine Capricorn friends to learn. This week. As of now. Even before I repeat that message a third time? You can guess what this applies to, right? There’s been a sticking point, the principle of the thing, I understand, but you fail to realize, as resolute as you’ve been? In this time and place?

“Everything is negotiable.”

Aquarius:

I like cooking with “winter” Jalapeno peppers. In the winter, the peppers are large, juicy, probably come out of a greenhouse someplace, and the winter peppers are mild. Gentle, almost sweet, and some of them? No, locally, I’ve picked up a few of the winter Jalapeno peppers that have been as mild and flavorful as a regular bell pepper. Sweet, almost. Good stuff to cook with, in my kitchen. As an Aquarius, though, there’s a special message. Imagine I’m making a light lunch, a few local cherry tomatoes, some carrots, maybe, some spinach, and then, some peppers.

I’ll slice one of the big, plump, juicy-looking Jalapeno peppers open, and I’ll taste a slice. Mild? Means I can use two or three, but I have to sample each one. It’s getting on in April, now, and the spring/summer peppers will start to arrive. Those have way more “heat.” The other week, I bought some big, fat, huge, to me, juicy-looking Jalapeno peppers. Of that batch? All but one were mild. I have to be careful with that single, hot one. Not all my patrons like food that is searing hot. I do, but that’s me. This is about testing. Almost all of those were still “winter” peppers, mild, juicy, even succulent, and perfect for my cooking. Taste, test and taste.

Pisces:

The problem being? That relationship had an expiration date on it. Think, like, you saw this coming, right?

“Best if used before…”

As an intuitive and thoughtful Pisces person, you knew this. Now, it’s not over, but if you consider some options at this point? I’d just like to throw out there that you’re ready to look at other possibilities. Other outcomes for this.

This one might be done with in its present state. Doesn’t mean that the change is bad, but the part where you know this had a limited window for viability? That’s sort of over, that window. Can’t say it snuck up and surprised you, though.