Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 7.2.2015

    “True nobility is exempt from fear”
    Suffolk in Shakespeare’s Henry 6, part II (IV.iv.129)

Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 7.2.2015

Cancer:

CancerCareful exegesis of the planets and their stories will help. There are two combustible elements floating in the sky. Just after sunset, Venus and Jupiter (in Leo) are clearly visible along the western horizon, but only just. The other fiery element, not visible, but quite tangible, Mars (in Cancer). This is a long, low, slow slide into a oblivion. Birthdays, birthday-time, 4th of July celebrations, firecrackers, flag-waving, all of that? All good. Deal is, with those combustible elements, you’re going to feel fine, all worked up, ready to play. After the Full Moon, though? No one else will be in the same way. Tired, cranky, irascible, general unease, upset with current affairs — that’s the other people. Cancer Moon Children babies? Not so much, still happy and still celebrating birthdays! Remember, it was those combustible elements. Cautions? Careful when handling hot stuff, careful with sharp implements, and careful with a razor-edged wit. It’s that lastt one that can be most damaging right now. From the moment the Moon slides out of “full,” the Cancer wit is still strong, but alas, most other folks won’t get that.

The (mighty) Leo:

Love me my Leo friends, ya’ll are just the best, you know? Right after sunset, there it is, majestic Jupiter next to sweet Venus, in both in Leo. What you can’t see?

Mars is in Cancer, next to the Sun. While I tend to think of The Leo as true nobility, always, there is a little problem with the current placement of Mars. Mars, like this, can cause fear. Which isn’t rational. However, if you are true nobility, and you are The Leo reading this, so I suspect as much, then you should understand that quote. “True nobility is exempt from fear.”

Between Venus and Mars this can bring up insecurities around relationships, perhaps this is body image, maybe it’s some other aspect of the mighty Leo Life, but there’s that creeping fear. I can’t shut it up. You, however, if you assume the mantle of the role as the Majestic Leo, if you agree to your birthright as the commander-in-chief and take on the titular role? Do all that and we won’t worry that you mighty be a teensy bit frightened underneath it all. Tap that Venus, and Venus/Jupiter, nature, use it, make us proud.

Oblique musical, movie reference? “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts!”

Virgo:

I’ve mused about this in other venues, and I suppose, it’s time to condense the thought and ponder it here. I’ve long held the belief that, maybe a hundred years ago, the train stations were the same as airports are now. Or, maybe further back, pre-train stations, it was stage-coach stops. Maybe. Prior to that? I’m unsure if there was mass transit, ships, possibly, but those would be voyages lasting months, with harbor not quite the same as a transit hub like an airport or train station. People coming and going, and as formerly frequent commuter, I’ve watched them all with my bemused and sardonic smile, me, off to one side.

My people, my places, but not my people. Me, quietly observing. Off to one side, not in the steady stream. As this next week unfolds, you’re going to find yourself in the midst of a large crowd. Even the most agoraphobic of Virgo folks, still, whatever passes for a large crowd by your standards. There you are. Instead of making a racket, calling attention to yourself, or otherwise creating a fuss? Pause. Double pause. There is no serious pressure on you, not this moment. Sure, there is a little, but it’s not pressing, unless, in your Virgo mind, a wondrous thing unto itself, in that cute Virgo brain, if you have made this into a big deal? You’ll wind up looking silly. Like me, in the train station at the bus stop, in the airport, quietly off to one side, like you, off to one side, maybe smirking, but not saying anything.

Libra:

There is a secret combination of herbs and spices that works to cure this Libra irritation. “Crap. He’s going to say, ‘Eye of newt and toe of frog’ kind of spell, isn’t he?” Know the reference for that potion’s original location? Never mind, not important. Yes, I’ll use that quote, or something like, as it varies from person to person, but there is a combination of material that works and works correctly, like “decaf” green tea with a mint tea bag, too.

Varies, like I’ve suggested, but there’s some kid of combination of pills, potions, unguents, and oils that are required. One of my weird friends dosed me with some essential oils, “Here, put this under your tongue, now hold…” I was ready to bitch-slap her, tasted horrible! Awful! However, fifteen minutes later, the headache was gone. I still had that lingering medicinal oil taste in my mouth, and I will never accept that crap again. But my headache was gone. Some combination, it’s possibly a homeopathic cure, maybe herbal, maybe an aspirin. Depends. But that kind of “11 herbs and spices” cure is what works, one way or another. Still haven’t forgiven my friend for that “essential oil” cure. Stuff tasted like motor oil.
“Did the trick, didn’t it?”

Scorpio:

Prior to this incarnation of me, I never had the luxury of a paper shredder. I tend to recycle most of my paper goods, but what little mail I get that has an account number on it, like that second sheet of a credit card bill? I’ll shred that. I keep thinking that the shredded stuff would be good compost, but I’m unsure of what elements are in the ink and bleached paper. So the shredded stuff goes in the regular trash, out to the dumpster. Prior, like in an Austin trailer park, I would just throw the stuff away, but it would be unceremoniously mixed with coffee grounds. Ruined by that and soiled cat litter. I would have hoped, and since it proved true, I never had anyone dumpster diving for my identity in a South Austin Trailer Park.

With Saturn lurching back, and Mars where he is, there are certain steps that need to be taken in Scorpio. Possibly, these are just security steps. Could be as simple as shredding spurious documentation. Could be a little more complicated like burying that same kind of documentation under coffee grounds and cat litter. All depends, but as a Scorpio, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

Sagittarius:

“Best thing ever happened to him? Mood management classes.” I think, I’m not sure, but given the setting, it was probably an allusion, or illusion, maybe a metaphor for “Anger Management” work. The term “classes” implies a teacher and then students, paying attention and taking notes. In this situation, not how it probably worked. Think seminar, workshop, hands-on training, not a voluntary, sedentary situation. Court-ordered? As a Sagittarius, we love the idea of book learning as an effective way to acquire knowledge. As a Sagittarius, we’re heading into our “experiential” phase wherein we best acquire knowledge through an experience rather than being told. This is an occasionally painful process.

I’m here to prevent Sagittarius pain. Look, learn, listen. Three L words. Look. Learn. Listen. Or look, listen, learn.

Capricorn:

“So what was your take-away?” Workshop question, at the end. One of those questions I tend to ask clients at the end of the leisurely readings. After the recent turn of Capricorn events, you have to ask yourself, “What was the message?”

There’s a planetary punctuation point, two in fact, between Mars and Saturn, so there’s a gentle message being wafted in the Capricorn direction.

You have to ask yourself, this week as a mantra maybe?

“What was the take-away point?”

Aquarius:

I looked down at the phone, regular client was calling, and I didn’t have the time. I let the phone ring. Aquarius I was with me — me? Big Aquarius fan, but you knew that, and anyway, she looks at me, “Aren’t you going to answer that?” I was kind of intent on my Aquarius conversation, so, no. Phone kept buzzing.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

I get caught up with Aquarius Air, captivated and captured by the aloofness that is somehow intimate at the same time. Totally roped in, that’s me.

Buddy left a voice mail then called back, the phone chirping.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Uh, no.

No voice mail, but there was a third call, phone chirping one more time.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Uh, no.

What’s most important? If that guy calls a fourth time? I’m handing the phone to the Aquarius.

Pisces:

Pretty sure it was Mark Twain who spoke about “All the modern inconveniences…” That’s a good question, even now, as a challenge for Pisces. This week, the stars go rolling by, and those selfsame stars are a possible cause of localized Pisces consternation. Update? Upgrade? Or, in this situation, planets where they are? Stay the same?

The relentless march of progress dictates that we change, we mutate, we grow, we push our boundaries further and further. However, there’s always the question about what is too much. Update? Upgrade? Better yet, pause. Just a suggestion, but as a thought? Pause before the upgrade. Might be a great idea. Might also be a time when you’ll want to pause and consider what that means, the “upgrade,” first.

Aries:

Strange to me how a subtraction can lead to making all this run smoother. I looked up some code (snippet) and discovered it was outdated. Excised that tiny bit and watched as the website loaded faster, fewer troubles, and, I think, whiter teeth and fresher breath. Might be wrong about the last two, but follow along: I took something out, a statement in the computer code for the website, and when I subtracted that comment, the site ran smoother. Not a big thing, not really, in the overall scheme, not a big deal at all. Micro-seconds, tenth’s of one-hundredths. Still, every little bit counts, and after I ran my test, I realized this was a perfect Aries example. It’s not a big deal, it’s about taking away one, out-dated piece of something. Doing so, this is a — something — that no longer serves a valid function. Take it away, remove it, jettison, or, do like I do, cut the offending line of code out, then paste it elsewhere in a note file, in case I need to add it back in, at a later date, or if the process isn’t greatly improved.

The process was greatly improved because, as I was researching it, I found out that the expression was no longer as important as it had been in previous versions of that software.

One, simple slice, or, in more Aries terms? “Quick slice and dice, good to go.”

Good to go. Simple excise to make this better.

Taurus:

The easiest way to deal with this week’s weird stellar arrangement? Between sunspots and solar flares, the phase of the moon, and all? Channel up that “Inner Taurus,” the very Taurus-like qualities that we all know and love. Channel up that thoughtful, considerate, to some, plodding and maddeningly slow, but still very Taurus-like quality. Stop, or rather, in our Taurus mind, we think, “I’m not stopping, I’m pausing, to assess this set of conditions and figure out the most expedient route from here to there. Can’t rush this.” Yes, can’t rush this. Taurus, the inner-Taurus, that internal wellspring of support, sustenance, and strength. Call upon that inner-Taurus to pause, listen, look, then carefully pick the easiest route forward. Still, you have to trust that very Taurus-like “Inner-Taurus” to help. In this world gone mad? To make things happen, that’s best for you? Strike a Taurus stance. Not stubborn, I never said “stubborn,” just cautious.

“Wow, when you paused, back there? You avoided that whole pile of crap! How did you know to pause?”

Read what the astrofish.net guy suggests. InnerTaurus, ask for it by name.

Gemini:

To help reduce clutter, reduce paperwork, reduce inanity in my own life, I simplified a few routines. While I started it as a joke, I eventually moved to a single pile, a very zen-like “In/Out” box. It’s a single box.

At the very bottom is an article that I clipped from a magazine and I’m intending to send to someone, at a later date, either with a “thank-you” note, or included in a birthday card, or who knows what. On top of that is a bill I’ve got to think about paying. Then there’s a magazine that a client handed me, maybe a year ago. An empty travel bag to hold pens, cords, and adapters is on top of that. Correspondence, regular bills, stray notes to myself, the one bill that I mail in, with a stamp on the envelope, ready to go, that’s the current contents of the “in/out” box.

Mostly inbound material but a couple of items that are outbound, too, just all there. I have to sift through it since it’s a single box, periodically, like almost daily. That reduces the amount of material that collects there, as well. Mercury is fixin’ to leave Gemini, and we’re fixin’ to have a chance to simplify the Gemini life. Consider a single “in/out” box. Or, I don’t care, any other steps that reduce the amount of clutter in the Gemini life, right now. Do it. Now. Before Mercury leaves.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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