A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it.

Julia in Shakespeare’s
Love’s Labor’s Lost (4.1.99)

Horoscopes starting 6.2.2016

Gemini:

There is but one action to avoid, this next week yes, I know, Gemini birthdays, and yes, I love me my Gemini friends, every last one of them, and yes, there’s always plenty of love for the Gemini in my sky. Not what this is about. Yes, this is a weird time. Yes, there are strange things afoot. Yes, it’s a bit “off,” and maybe not off in a way that your Gemini self will totally enjoy. I can’t stop that. What I can do is warn you about just one action not to undertake. One activity that is very much not encouraged, despite it being your birthday and Venus and all that?

Gemini: Don’t drink and dial.

It’s not always a bad thing, but some days, like this next week? Don’t get half in a bag, then start calling up long-lost loves. I wouldn’t mention this, but I’ve been a recipient of the 2 AM Gemini call, “You ruined me for other men and I hate you, unless, you know, you want to hang out tonight?” There are least three or four emotions wrapped in that simple call. I’m flattered that I had the power to ruin a life, but I doubt it was our brief liaison. Slurred speech and hour, and besides, that wasn’t the real suggestion. I’m out of it. Love me my Gemini, but I’m not playing with them anymore — I’m not man enough. A typical, if there is such a creature, a typical Gemini requires twice as much as a normal person. So there’s that. But that’s not what this about, it’s about the breathalyzer on the phone, especially in the wee hours of the morning when many people are asleep.

Gemini: Don’t drink and dial.

Cancer:

“Uh Mr. Wetzel, your prescription won’t be ready until tomorrow, sorry for the delay.” I was using one those automated refill, dial in things. The automated voice told me that my bottle would be filled on the following day. Half an hour later, phone buzzes, and I absent-mindedly pick up, “S’up?” That’s the conversation, and the pharmacy tech, doing the dialing was slightly startled, miffed, or otherwise perturbed, based on my casual and easy-going attitude. The message was clear, I wasn’t going to get my drugs until the following day, and I knew that, when I ordered the refill. None of this is life-threatening, besides I don’t take anything I can’t live without.

I ordered the refill before I was out. The automated system told me it was going to be at least 24 hours. The follow-up call was interesting, but to me, a waste of their time. There’s a hiccup in their systems, not mine. This is a typical week for Cancer’s Moon-children. “Your order will be ready in 24 hours,” then a follow-up call, “Hey, just to let you know, your order will be ready in 24 hours, okay?”

Sure.

You can get annoyed, but that just adds to the consternation, and there’s no need. Some folks, corporations, have to repeat the message a few times. I guess.

Answer that second call like I did, “S’up?”

The Leo:

Face it, you’re just ahead of the pack. Only way I can see this going on, but the easiest way to explain it? You’re ahead of the curve. You’re advanced. You’re three or four steps ahead of where everyone else is. There’s a loneliness that comes with being so advanced. There’s a tepid sense of the absurd, and at least one of my good Leo buddies will have that sense that something is wrong.

“Why am I in this hand basket and where am I going?”

Joke? Sure. It’s that you’re moving at pace that outstrips the rest of us, and you’re out in front, only, you pause, look back, and there doesn’t seem to be the usual Leo-entourage. That’s the problem, and that doesn’t mean you’re not out, ahead of the rest of us. Feels a bit lonely, this week, but then, being so far ahead of everyone else? Being the true Leo Leader that you are? It might feel lonely.

Virgo:

While I’m Virgo-centric, and Virgo–compatible, that doesn’t mean I’ll be available in this next week, not with the way you’re stacking this stuff up. There’s a frantic urgency to what’s at hand, and nothing seems to work, am I right, or what? No one seems to get it, either. Therein is the problem, as you understand that there’s an urgency, a frantic, “We must fix this RIGHT NOW!” With the challenge, that no one, not even me, understands how important this is. Part of this is a built-in disaster reflex, innate with most of the Virgo-tinged folks I see. I make an effort to not argue with the lightening-quick Virgo-reflex action. While I’ll agree, in another week, that this is an emergency, and while I agree, in another week, that we need to pay attention to some of the details, and while I’ll agree, as usual, you were correct in your assumption about the dire nature of the catastrophe?

Where we part ways, me and that Virgo-reflex action? Where we go our separate paths is that I don’t find this as urgent, not right now. The challenge is realizing no one will understand how urgent this, not at this moment. Here’s the trick: there’s a reason why no one else sees this as that urgent. It might just be not that urgent. There is always one, and that Virgo will e-mail me, “The sky if falling, the sky is falling!”

Really?

Libra:

Relatively speaking, I’m a latecomer to the culinary artifices from Louisiana. Blackened, and crawfish are the two that come to mind, but there are a wide variety of elements that play into this, too. Tabasco, a long-time staple on my table, originally from Louisiana. Yes, I have reverence and even a small amount of trepidation when it comes to Louisiana food. I was in a trailer park in Austin when I was first introduced to “Boudain,” pronounced BOO-dan. My first experience was quickly corrected by a girl from Luisiana who fetched back some of her family’s home-made stuff. Great, and then, even better.

Recently, the local grocer carried some “Genuine Louisiana Boudain.” I picked some up and dropped bits of it into various meals. As a flavoring, this might be better than a number of other elements I’ve cooked with. It’s about experimenting and it’s about experimenting with a known quantity — or something I know a little about. I recall what it tasted like the first time, it’s a kind of sausage and don’t ask what’s in it. I recall that it would work well with any number of other food, the first time was probably on a bed rice, or alongside Red Drum, blackened. I’m not sure. Maybe collard greens were in that, as well. So there’s the first inclination that this is Southern, but there’s an air of being willing to experiment with the recipe. Some weeks, it pays to assiduously follow the recipe. Other times, like now? Veer a little off the beaten trail, see what happens. Might be a raging success, like experiments with Boudain.

Scorpio:

“It’s a fact, you can’t argue with facts!”

Oh, but a good Scorpio, and you’re reading this, so you know better, but the facts, if they don’t fit the situation, then the facts must be changed.

“You can’t do that!”

Oh, but I can, and frequently, I do. There’s tremendous pressure for change in the mutable quadrants of the sky, but as a Scorpio, the strong Scorpio isn’t feeling this as much. However, with Mars bouncing back? We have a ways to go. There’s a certain kind of fluidity that’s required.

“You can’t argue with facts!”

Oh, but as a good Scorpio, we know that facts can be changed, as need be, to fit the current situation. Be willing to rewind, rewrite, or otherwise negotiate hard, cold facts.

Better yet, “I have photographic proof!”

That, in this day and age of digital chicanery? It’s super-easy to photoshop that image. It can be changed. The settings, the backgrounds, the facts, all of that can be modified. Be aware that the facts you’re trying to argue with? Be aware those facts might be changed.

“It’s a fact, you can’t argue with facts!”

Really?

Sagittarius:

Coming off a long run like this last one, there’s a certain let-down associated with this. At least one of my fishing buddies will think that this is a hangover remedy, and for him, it might just be.

There’s a certain relief to be found in farm-fresh tomatoes. The over-sized heirloom tomatoes? That and pair it with slices of rough, brown bread, maybe cheap yellow mustard, and salt. The way I remember the original solution was coming in barefoot on a summer’s day and fresh tomatoes from the retired guy next door. He grew these monster tomatoes. Slice one open, it was red and juicy, and not even like a store-bought tomato. That and a shaker of salt? Perfect way to find refuge on hot summer’s afternoon. It is the simplest of pleasures, and that’s the way this works. There’s a simple refuge.

This isn’t complicated, keep it as simple as we can.

The pressures are intense, at times, and there’s an incredible opportunity to take this easy task? Make it more difficult. Not our usual style but Saturn isn’t our usual planet, and he’s had some tough angles, so there is that. Easy. Keep it easy. The juice from one beefsteak tomato, running out of the corners of Sagittarius mouthes? It’s the simplest of pleasures that provide us with respite.

Capricorn:

It’s a fine line between madness and brilliance. Similarly, in Capricorn, it’s a thin line between outstandingly wonderful, and “You’re nuts!” To the fine Capricorn, in the next week, that line gets a little fuzzy and possibly vague at times.

More like guidelines rather than rules, you know?

The difficult proposition is how to achieve the brilliance without being labelled “Nut job.” I’ve been called that before. And “Fruitcake.” Plus there are several terms, and I’ve gotten to the point that I no longer argue with the terminology, as long as it is relatively polite. The problem is a Capricorn isn’t used to dancing close to that line, or in my example of me? Over that line, as often as I do. I know this about me, but can you get close to the “Weird guy” appellation without embracing it too much? That’s the idea. That’s the way this works. It’s a fine line between brilliance and madness. Get close, but please, maybe this isn’t a good week to flirt shamelessly with the madness. Other folks might not understand.

Close to the edge, not over.

Aquarius:

Exact transcription of the up and coming Aquarius conversations?

“that’s not how it happened!”

I’ll hear that plea, over and over, and that’s the way it did happen as there’s amply video recordings, one from a cell phone, one from a security camera, hows, that’s exactly what happened.

“No, you don’t understand,” here it is again, “that’s not what happened!” I do understand.

I’m Aquarius-compliant and Aquarius-compatible. I do understand that there are some nuances of the situation that other folks just don’t get, but that doesn’t stop this from being presented as fact, the way it is. To avoid this frustration? To avoid the confrontation? Avoid confrontation this next few days. Realize, too, that the Mars thing? Someone isn’t going to understand quite correctly, the Aquarius point of view.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s to like that!”

Pisces:

Pisces are, indeed, different from everyone else. Not that it’s bad, just different. I was born, raised, and continue to live in Texas, so I’m used to the notion that we’re a little different, but not all Pisces get that, and especially not this next few days.

The part that makes you different? The pieces that set you apart from “normal” signs? That intuition, that precious sense of prescience? That knowing by feeling your way along? That’s going to be picking up some of the wrong signals this week. Next couple of days, your normally spot-on intuition is going to lead you astray.

Personally, I like leading a little Pisces astray, not something I get to do often enough, these days.

“And fun was had by all.”

Never mind, pleasant reverie. The potential problem with this, not everyone is nice like me. Not everyone is going to have fun with leading you astray. You might have fun, at first, but then, suddenly, you wake up in place that you don’t recognize and there’s that “What did I do last night” feeling of foreboding. Was fun at the time, wasn’t it? Because you’re different, there’s a sixth sense that is normally pretty good, only, this next few days? Not sure I’d trust it. Not sure you should trust it, either.

Aries:

I know exactly one Aries, born in 1975, who can count on luck this week. The rest of us? Not so much. Not at all. Skip the luck thing.

“If it weren’t bad luck,
I’d have no luck at all.”

Which is the answer to the question about betting on luck and hoping that luck will prevail. Exactly one person who reads this can count on luck. The rest of my Aries friends? Hard work, perseverance, staying on task, keeping the goal in sight? All of that is what works. How this works, what’s require. Stay focused.

“Oh, but I’m usually lucky, something will work out,” might be a common expression for Aries, but this next few days? Don’t skirt, avoid, or try to shortcut any important tasks. Won’t end well. Might end well for someone who’s not an Aries, but for now? There’s no way to avid rolling up your sleeves and tackling the hard work yourself.

Taurus:

I was going for the Taurus taste buds. I’ve experimented with food, and I’m recent arrival at this food thing. I was an expert in smoked meat, as in sampling smoked meat, but part of that being raised where I was born, in Texas. BBQ sauce runs in the blood. As does gravy, but that’s not what this about, it’s about that one treat, or it tastes like a treat, but it’s not really bad for you.

One place does some vegan food that is so tasty, I’m just sure there’s a hunk of ham, a good ham bone maybe, floating in the stew, in the back. Nope, all vegan. It can be like that. As a Taurus, I’m looking for an alternative

“This stuff tastes so good, it can’t be healthy!”

That’s this week’s catchphrase for Taurus.