- “Dispute not with her, she is lunatic.”
- Marquess of Dorset in Shakespeare’s Richard III (I.iii.253)
Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 9.10.2015
Couldn’t have said it better myself. Don’t argue with crazy people. Although Venus is no longer retrograde, there’s still an inherent insanity, some will suggest this is linked to the Moon’s position, hence the term “Lunatic,” which derives from the Latin root for the moon, “Luna,” which was often blamed for apparent unstable mental conditions. No Virgo would stand for unstable mental conditions, so don’t be crazy. It’s that simple. Birthdays elicit some illicit activities. Simply put, don’t be crazy. Don’t argue with crazy people, either, like the opening quote suggests. Arguing with a crazy person, except for one person I know who enjoys that activity, but arguing with a crazy person is not birthday behavior. We all want Virgo to have a happy birthday.
At a buddy’s place, the pool light was out in the swimming pool. Not just burned out, but the guy had the unit dismantled, parts scattered across the pool’s decking, and loose wires, floating in the water. Herein is my cautionary tale for this week’s Libra, see, I know, last month, August, Texas, it was a scorcher of a day.
My buddy, screwdriver in hand, looks up at me, “No problem, bro, wire’s dead,” implying no electrical charge. As a Libra, though, the wires floating free in the water, the distant memory that water and electricity don’t cooperate together? I might’ve been hot and sweaty, but a dunk in the pool wasn’t worth the risk, not to me. As a Libra, this next few days, you’ll be faced with a similar set-up, “No, it’s safe, I promise.” How sure are you? I love my buddy like a brother, but trust him? Libra, how sure are you, and what does your own judgement suggest? I’d take a pass on the water and electricity.
I was in an airport, checking a suitcase. The baggage handler took an aspiring look at me, noted my frequent flyer drink coupon, and his suggestion? “Get a diet coke and “Old #7″ — with a Twist of lime. Ask for it, on the plane, you’ve got two hours.” He checked the destination tag, “Yes, two hours, at least. Have good flight!”
Not being so much of a drinking man these days, I smiled broadly, grinning, and then moved onto the rest of the trip.
The idea is to make it healthy, delicious and palatable. The twist of lime, the Diet Coke part? Palatable. Healthy —
For a spell, my Sister was growing a lot of her own food. Small house, large garden, fruits, veggies, all manner of good stuff. I was talking on the phone with her, during her “farming phase,” and she explained that she was up to her elbows in pears and zucchini. Pears and zucchini? The image I got was more prurient and less vegetarian. I made note of her comments and then veered off on another tangent, as Sister is Gemini and frequently forgets the destination. I was wondering how I wasn’t supposed to make a comment about the veggies she chose to use as examples. As a Sagittarius, now is not the time to make those kinds of comments. To be sure, there are a few Sagittarius out there who will, and the problem being the obvious symbolism to our lower minds will be amusing, but the listeners might not be so amused.
It’s a warning to start watching what we comment upon, and how make the comment, although, pears and zucchini? Is it just me?
Kind of a fun place to be, as a Capricorn, you know? Pretend you have ice water in your veins. “Sang Froid,” I believe, is the correct term. Steely resolve. That look in your eye. The way to see distant places as near. Or a faraway look in your eyes, it’s something like that. Might be just that, varies from person to person, but you’re starting to get the idea? This is a fun place for a Capricorn. Be resolved to seem like you have ice water in your veins. Nothing scares you. No silly Sagittarius astrologer with outlandish prognostications, none of that is going to bother you, upset you, or even get under your Capricorn skin. None of that.
Saturn — the planet of Capricorn — is fixin’ to make a shift again. That bodes well for Capricorn. The way to see this week through? Steely resolve in your eyes. Ice water in your veins. “That doesn’t scare me,” you coldly respond. Might scare the bejeebers out of you, but that doesn’t matter. Don’t let it show. No fear. At least, don’t show fear. Keep the Capricorn gaze set, like a hundred meters down the road, or a hundred miles. Whatever works best, for you.
My thesis is simple. I’ve posited that “My kind” shouldn’t really dance in public. I’m straight, I’m white. No rhythm and poor fashion sense, and I’m good with that. I have no problems shaking it in private — like now — in my office when no one can see me. No problem whatsoever. Some “positive thinking” people will assure me that I can dance, and to do so as if no one is watching. Which I’ve done, and I’ve observed and even with copious amounts of alcohol, I don’t think — as a generalization — I don’t think folk like me are very good dancers.
It’s not a problem. I know this. It’s within my known operating parameters. We know that I shouldn’t do much more than sway to the music, while in public, just save me from embarrassing myself. Not a problem, I know this about me. I appreciate it. I embrace this about my nature. I’m not afraid of it. Stay true to thine own self, easier way to do this. Doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy watching someone who knows what to do, or is practiced at the moves, or is graceful and fitted in ways I am not, no, I can appreciate that just fine. I can twirl and two-step to a country band just fine, but I won’t be winning awards, other than as the most toes stepped on. Again, not a problem, I know this about me.
As an Aquarius, follow me lead here: what are good at. What are not good at, and maybe this isn’t a time to pursue those actions that we all known, well, shouldn’t be pursued?
The number of times I can answer a quick astrological question with just a line or less? I can’t count it. Countless. So here’s the deal, it’s a simple question. It can be answered either “Yes” or “No.” Not much room in that to answer with a long, and if it’s me talking? A long and drawn out “Well, maybe, sort of, kind of, see, it’s sort of in the middle…” No, that’s not how this week works. There’s a simple Pisces question. A very direct, “yes,” or “no” will suffice as an answer. From what I know about my little Pisces friends, though, a simple answer, direct, to the point, and no equivocating? That’s not really too useful. It is useful but it also makes for a tense time, as the Pisces want to know why, who, what, when, maybe some other factor the rest of us haven’t considered. Which is the problem. And the answer is? As a Pisces, reduce that question to a simple “Yes” or “no,” then the answer will be quite plain. The correct answer, I would suggest, you already know the answer, so no use in asking me. I try to be gentle with Pisces, every chance I get, but the answer?
I think you already know what the correct answer, for you, for this situation, you already know what the correct answer is. Doesn’t mean you’ll listen to yourself, but can’t say I didn’t try to help.
When Mercury starts to go slow? Like now? This is the time when attention to detail is more important than ever before. The problem being, well, not a problem, per se, but the challenge facing my Aries brothers and sisters? The challenge is that there’s a “Broad strokes, big picture” world view at work in the Aries mindset, when, the rest of the Aries is best served with attention to the painstaking, minute, itty-bitty, mind-numbingly stupid details.
Why the good lord created Virgo’s, am I right about that? Sure.
Here’s the deal: pay attention, this will drive you nuts, but pay attention to the details, double-check ALL Aries work, go over it a second time, I know, you went over it once, that should be enough, and it would be, if this were a normal time. But it’s not normal, and your “Big Picture, Broad-Brush Strokes” way of thinking isn’t going to work. Details. Dream big, right? Yes. However, keep at least one Aries foot in the real world. Back again to the details, you know?
Two terms popped into my mind as I scanned the Taurus heavens, looking at the location of the planets. The first terms was “Give in,” but to me, that sounds too much like “Giving up,” and no Taurus is probably going to that. You know, just give up. However, there’s another term, as I tweaked the chart a little, akin to “Going with the flow,” but not quite as airy.
How about, “Bend a little?” Just as a term, I wasn’t so invested in the Taurus outcome that I couldn’t see this as viable option. Just bend a little. Little less of “going with the flow,” but a little bit of it. Just a touch. More like “Bend with it,” instead of “totally giving in,” and being swept away. So much for “Going with flow,” huh?
Bend a little. Not so Taurus rigid that you can’t see the other side. I didn’t say, “Cave in,” just bend some. Be more flexible and be surprised at how that new-found flexibility pays off for you.
Looking around, I found an article with a leading title, “How to keep procrastination from draining all your time and money.” The first step? Quit reading articles on the web about “How to” with various misleading and beguiling titles. As a Gemini, procrastination is this week’s enemy. Stop putting it off to do later. “Later” is now, for Gemini. I can’t change the planets, nor, for that matter, do I really want to change them, but the Gemini influence? Now. It’s that simple. Now. Not later, not next week, not next year, which can be like anytime other than now, which, suggests, like I’ve suggested, the time is now. Maybe the first step is to stop reading one more article about how to stop procrastinating. Stop procrastination now.
Seriously, for Gemini, just for the next couple of days, doesn’t take much, just put off the procrastination until a later date.
Eating at one of those fancy places, with the owner serving as the maitre’d? The waiter bustled over and asked, “Was it good?” He followed the question, which came out like a comment, anyway, he quickly followed the question/statement with another, more obvious statement, “That was rhetorical.” In other words, he just expected it to be exceptional. Which it was, of course, one of the fine dining experiences I don’t partake of too often, but every once in a while, the linen napkin, real silver, and expert dishes prepared by a starred cook? Sure. Great stuff.
So, Cancer, my favorite Moon Child, was it good? That question, on my part, is rhetorical.
There is something kicking up its heels, stirring the dust, or making itself known, in one form or another, right in front of you. Pay attention. “Was it good.” Statement, not really a question. It’s that rhetorical question game, this week.
So, it was good, right?
“Clear as mud, Kramer, clear as mud.”
The (mighty) Leo:
I’m pretty used to places along the Texas Gulf Coast that offer, “You catch, you clean, we cook” deals. Most of the restaurants offer that, salad, side, then your own “catch,” cooked up usually blackened or fried. I was greatly amused when my own mother showed up with some monster zucchini from her own garden-fresh source (think it was farmer’s market, but I’m unsure.) I’ve long-since learned not trust my own family for food sources, as no one seems to be overtly concerned with sanitation, other than me. Or little deals like expiration dates.
Showing up with her own (monster) zucchini, I couldn’t help but think about the places that cook my fish. Seemed about right.
As the majestic Leo, what does my familial food issues have to do with Mars, no-longer Retrograde Venus, and the Moon, what do they all hold in store for you? It’s like my own, wee mum showing up with her own vegetables — I just hope the cook washed that monster thing, as we’re all a little unsure of its origin. A wee bit of caution goes a long way to make your Leo self feel better about whatever is being prepared.