Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood,
Which by the heavens’ assistance and your strength,
Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For well I wot ye blaze to burn them out.
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords!

King Edward in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, part 3 act V scene iv, line 67-72

Horoscopes starting 2.25.2016

Pisces:

Some years ago, I realized that I couldn’t really count myself as a true Shakespeare aficionado because I hadn’t read all of the plays. To be sure, the entire canon has grown since I was at the University. They’ve added a couple of plays with obvious but questionable contributions from Shakespeare.

However, to look at this from a different perspective, what I wanted to do was listen to the whole canon, read aloud and dramatized, which I did.

This has had mixed results. I can say that I made my way through the bloody and strange history trilogy of Henry VI, parts 1, 2, & 3. In doing so, these are early in the author’s career, in doing so, I was amazed at the way the language can dance, the obvious roots of the poetry quite clear. Some wonderful language, bloody history, war, battles, and so forth. Originally, it was my plan to cover the entire catalog of Shakespeare’s works in one year. Took more than twice as long, as I do have a day job, too. So as I plucked up this week’s opening quote, I ruminated on the task, and how it was twice as long. Still, I met my objective.

Pisces: might take twice as long, might two, three years, or weeks, or even a day or two longer than anticipated. Still, success is headed your way, if you assiduously stick that stated goal.

“Whoa, look at that!”

Aries:

I live in South Texas. With its variegated and slightly striated histories, the clash of cultures and the miasmic mix of native and imported? It’s a strange brew to say the least. I love the tourists, too. I pretty much just consider myself a tourist, as it’s easier to explain actions and reactions. My usual comment starts with, “I’m not from around here.” As an Aries?

I listened while one such tourist was in coffee shop. “I’ll have one of them, what do you call? A ‘caramel mariachi,’ yeah, that’s the name, I think.”

Covered by a myriad giggles and and perhaps a long eye from one of the counter workers, the purported tourist might’ve been local and playing games, but I was unsure. I liked the idea of a ‘Caramel Mariachi,’ but that’s me. Maybe it could be marketed to the tourists in the downtown district.

The whole time, I was off to the side, a patient observer, smiling, not offering a comment, either way, as I didn’t want to get into the middle of the fray. As an Aries, can you stay out of the discussion? Off to one side, nod, smile, and if pressed? The best comment is “Interesting!” It’s non-committal.

Aries: Stay out of the line of fire.

Taurus:

The problem being, this last little tip from Mr. Mars? It’s about taking away one thing, it’s about removing one potential problem area and seeing what happens. Or, in this example, the flavor of what happens.

Some years ago, I started a minor health kick, and I shunned all tobacco products. No snuff (dip), no chewing tobacco, no social cigarettes, no cigars. No pipes. I didn’t mean to set a trend, it was as if I gave this up for Lent, and just never picked it back up. Eventually, I was free of all tobacco products. Which is too bad, as tobacco is an integral part of some indigenous cultures, a big part of the spiritual landscape. This isn’t all about me. This is about taking away one thing, and in my case, it was tobacco, three, maybe four years ago.

The problem? My taste buds have recovered. I can detect flavors, nuanced spices, and hints of extracts, like woodsy overtones with a strong nut-like finish, I can get that in all food now. Or most of them. Because flavors are strong, I had some generic, name-brand coffee beans the other morning. “Waking up with …” My experience? Less than wonderful. Did not please my newly refined palate. Not a good experience. Taking away one thing does this, accentuates others, to a Taurus. Still, Mars? Opposite you? Take away one thing, see what happens. I hope your experience is more delightful than mine.

No one likes crap coffee.

Gemini:

Rhythm, process, and foundation. What this next couple of days are all about for the cute, little Gemini. Both of you. All of yawl. All the disparate little Gemini characters therein, three elements to pay attention to, rhythm, process, and foundation. The rhythm is part of the process, part of the way you’re merrily working along, and the process itself, it’s less about the goal, and more about the journey, which, in turn makes this a process-oriented rhythm. It’s like banging a hammer, over and over, to get all the nails centered.

I helped a buddy unload a truckload of spring mulch for his garden, bulky bags of mulch. Got the truck unloaded in no time because there was rhythm to the process. The mulch? Perfect example of the last part of this process, the rhythm, the process? Mulch went down first for a spring garden. I’m not a gardening type, not anymore, not in any way, shape or form, but I like helping my buddy with chores like this because then he owes me, and his wife is more likely to let us fish in a few weeks. That’s the foundation I was setting up. That’s the foundation he was setting up, too. See how this works? Three-steps? Rhythm, process, foundation. In other words? “Chop wood, carry water.” I rather prefer the big, light bags of mulch.

Cancer:

Need to change the Cancerian, Moon-child pitch. Looking for a change-up. Looking for something that breaks with Cancer convention, and adds a new level of, well, new. New “something,” and I’m unsure of what that “something” should be. Different. Change.

I varied my home routine. Wasn’t a big change, but it was enough of a change that it presented some new information, new timing, and new resources. When it’s “winter,” I usually shower in the morning, then work. In the “summer,” except when I’ve got a load of readings scheduled, I tend to wake, work, walk, then shower in the evening, so I’m fresh for bed. Rare, cold day in February? I was working on the summer schedule, of bathing after “work,” but I need to change it up.

It is a small, almost insignificant change, but breaking the daily rhythm helped. It helped immensely. I realized that this was a message that needed to be passed along to a certain sign: Cancer. That home-bound, nurturing Crab-like energy needs to shake up the routine. Granted, my example was kind of lame, but this isn’t about me, this is about you. One step, one trigger, one shake of the existing routine. Do it differently. See how that helps with this weird weather.

The Leo:

Surely I do, I love me my Leo friends. Loud, rancorous, right, raucous. Loud. There’s an urgency to the Leo’s tone, exacerbated by both Venus and Mercury in Aquarius, and that might not set well. Other people, not me, but other people, the non-Leo (non-Royal) folks might not understand the urgency in your Leo voice.

The problem that needs to be addressed, the help, the issue, the reasoning. I can’t fix everyone. I can say that this is a problem. It’s not a problem with me, but as The Wonderful Leo, yes, some folks don’t understand your timbre. That panic, urgency, haste, insistence that this is an issue that needs immediate attention? Yeah, that one. I’ll drop everything and rush to be there to comfort you, but I’m the only one, and the only reason I’m doing this? I’m an astrologer, and I’m watching what unfolds, and I know what’s at stake. There are two solutions. One, make sure you’re with Leo-centric, Leo-friendly people who understand your urgency. The other solution? Tone it down. I know it’s important. You know it’s important. The other folks don’t always get just how important this is. Therein is the problem. Just because that tone works with me? Doesn’t mean it will work with everyone. I understand the sense of immediacy and efficacy of action for The Leo. Again, not everyone understands.

Virgo:

I’ve waxed eloquently, in the past, about how I love “Winter jalapeños.” Probably produce from Mexico, and although marked “Organic,” I’m not sure I trust that label. Still, as far as a basic cooking element, it’s one of my favorite “go-to” veggies. I use them, as stated, in just about every pan-seared meal I prepare.

The winter ones, when reasonably fresh, are delicious with a fairly low heat-quotient. Mild peppers, not hot at all. In part, it’s the winter growing season, in part it’s the soil and condition, and in part, oh, what do I know? I just know that they are very, very mild. Jalapeño flavor without the jalapeño heat. The best ones, I have to careful hand-pick them at the grocery store, the best ones are a touch lighter in shade, almost as if they weren’t quite ripe, and the flavor is stronger with the relative heat index being substantially lower. Winter jalapeños, look for them.

As a Virgo, there’s s trick to this, each one has to be hand selected from the pepper bin. As a Virgo, this week? It’s like me looking at peppers in the bin at the store. Each one has to be hand-selected.

As a Virgo? This is the time to be extra — Virgo-like — picky. Choosey. Hand select those items. Probably not making one last batch of chili, but that doesn’t stop you from hand-selecting what needs to go in this week’s Virgo collection. Hand-Select. Extra-picky. Choosey. Have to get the right ones.

Libra:

I’m constantly amused by children. This one time, old fishing buddy, he was herding his kids, and I stopped by to talk about a boat motor. His wife was out, so it was him and the two kids, eating drive-through food as that was most expedient, is my guess. His littlest one is sort of verbal, at the time, as the kid knows “More,” and “hot!” Which, I guess, are necessary food references, and the kid seemed adept at fending off its older sibling.

What I didn’t get was cantaloupe and catsup. Not two items I’d mix. The fruit, sure that’s healthy. Ketchup? One of the universal American flavors. My buddy’s other kid? Catsup with its catsup. I’ve seen it. Like I’ve suggested, I’m amused by what kids will put together. I’m not about to taste test catsup and cantaloupe. Doesn’t strike me as a palatable option, but that’s me. I looked at my buddy, and he shrugged his shoulders, like only parents can. “The kid’s eating, it’s healthy, more or less, I don’t care.” Sure, it’s a little weird, but who are we to judge? As a Libra, I’m not saying that you should rush out and try cantaloupe and catsup, but as Libra? Don’t snicker at the odd choices. It might taste good. You’ll never know if you don’t try, which, in turn, is what this week’s all about.

Scorpio:

BBQ place in South Austin, with its myriad of assembled signage, the one I liked? I picked this for Scorpio, this week. One sign on the wall says, “Be nice or leave.” There’s also an old Austin City Limits sign that reflects the population I knew, about million less than the Austin area currently is, so there is a suggestion that it might be an old sign.

“Be nice or leave.”

Mars makes his final passes through the last few degrees of Scorpio.

“Be nice or leave.” Words to live by, I’d suggest. You have two opportunities, way I see this week breaking up, two chances. Twice, your Scorpio self will be called upon, and you can either be nice, and win, in the long run. Or you can be “not nice,” and while there’s a very visceral joy that comes from being right — in the moment — the bigger picture? That moment of fury may not play well over time. Back the advice, tested, twice, “Be nice or leave.” As always, I am merely making a suggestion. It was an old sign on the wall at a BBQ joint. Still, the image is clear, for Scorpio, “Be nice or leave.”

Sagittarius:

I’m taking a running jump at this one, but as a Sagittarius I like to be prepared for what might be ahead. OK, so we’re the sign that is least-likely to pay attention to warning signs, but that’s not what this is about. The term that springs to my mind, my Sagittarius lizard-brain, what I think about when I see this arrangement?

We have to be cognizant of “emotional shading” in everyday occurrences. Usually, we can bluster our way through, stepping on toes, and mutter, “Sorry, sorry, coming through,” with no long-lasting side-effects. A few trampled toes, but we tend to not bruise too many egos, after all, we’re Sagittarius, clumsy, goofy, direct, and honest. Mostly. Lucky, more lucky than some would like, but our luck seems to have turned south for a spell.

It’s OK, it’s a Saturn thing. Which is why, as I looked at our charts, and especially my chart, I kept thinking that this is the week to be aware, observant, and tread tenderly around other signs’ feelings. It’s that emotional shading, and trying to be aware is about three-quarters of the way there. Just being aware of the tint that the emotions can carry, maybe not the words, but the hue, the sense of what’s being said, rather than “Just the facts,” and “only what matters.” Watch for that emotional shading.

Capricorn:

For many years, think of a trailer park in South Austin, where space was a premium, I stored my batteries in the icebox. Refrigerator. Made sense to me, and it was one of those bits of urban lore that was handed to me, and passed down along with stories about my family, apparently, some of the tales of my childhood are not exactly true.

Also, apparently, storing batteries in the icebox is no longer a “thing” to do. Current science seems split on whether it’s a good idea or not, but the idea that the errant, odd battery can leak into foods might be a warning in itself. I haven’t had a battery go bad in a rather long time, but I also quit storing the various household (work-related) batteries in the icebox. I left that for chilling foods and keeping summer-time beverages cold. Other than that? No batteries in the icebox. It was a long-held belief, but one that was patently, untrue, as most manufactures certainly recommend against storing their batteries in the refrigerator. It was a long-held belief. It was untrue. Be willing to realize that you’ve got a long-standing Capricorn belief that might be untrue. Not like this is a big deal, either, I just have a shelf in the pantry for the batteries, now.

Aquarius:

“Ten travel tips,” was one title. Another, link-bait title? “5 Steps for a quick-getaway,” again, a travel related theme. None of that works for me. I have much better system, but I might not be able to describe it in link-bait headlines. I keep three suitcases packed, ready to go. One is a roller bag carry-on with TSA-safe toiletries, another is carry-on size, but with more extensive materials, like it has to be checked, and finally, there’s the “trunk,” which really isn’t a trunk, but it is oversized. On more than one occasion that trunk’s been filled with valuable books, while I packed dirty laundry elsewhere.

Instead of it being a “five steps to” process, what I’ve got is a system from too many years on the road. Part of the Aquarius success stems from process rather than “do this then do this, then do this…”

There are no tutorials. Think in terms of process, and having what you need, ready as the emergency arises, rather than having to figure this out, afterwards. There’s a fourth bag, too, that I keep half-packed, fishing trips, quick overnight to the coast? Shorts, t-shirt, bare essential necessities, adjust as need be. It’s about process, not about having a “step by step” plan.