Therefore the moon (the governess of floods),
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound.
Titania in Shakespeare’s Midsummer’s Night’s Dream 2.1.103-5

Mercury Starts a Retrograde pattern in Virgo. Mercury is Retrograde from August 30 to September 21, 2016.

Saturn square Neptune.

Horoscopes starting 8.25.2016

Virgo:

Listen to the cicadas. It’s sound, a summer sound, an August, summer sound I’ve grown up with, and living in Texas, one I’m used to. That summer sound? I was taking off to walk up to the store, buy some grocery items, not much. As usual, I had on stereo earbuds, with a microphone, as I was answering and returning some calls.

Hot, August afternoon. I hadn’t heard the cicadas that loud since South Austin days. While that’s not entirely true, it was refreshing to hear, and as soon as the music cycled up, think I was listening to a Shakespeare play, I stopped. Pulled the earplugs out. I stopped, pulled the ear plugs out, and turned the music off. For a few step, then for the rest of my walk, I was immersed in the sounds of summer. Mostly, it was the cicadas, just a dull buzz, and like me, listening to summer, all over again? As Mercury stops and suggests a stationary pattern? In this next week? Pull the ear plugs out. Turn off the ambient, background, white noise. Fewer distractions are better as this will be a rather amusing Mercury in Retrograde. Easiest way to survive and thrive? Pull out the earplugs. Listen to the cicadas. Or listen to whatever.

Libra:

My father, a Libra if there ever was one, was also a “Warm Springs” polio survivor. Because he had polio at a young age, one leg was smaller than the other. So I saw a shoe sale, the other day, “Buy One, get One Free.” Clever ad. Wouldn’t have worked, though, as my father would only need one shoe of one size.

Growing up around my father, I developed a strong sense of the absurd. Although he was “handicapped,” he never let that stop him. Did, on occasion, slow him down, but he never let it stop him, to his last days. I was thinking about him, and trying to spin that shoe sale into a humorous point of education. Sale idea, works for some, doesn’t work for others. It was about seeing, and capturing some of the absurdities in life. Seeing that sale sign brought up mischievous ideas like walking in, and asking for, “I’ll take the right one in size 10, and the free one? Size 8.” Embrace the absurd, and by the end of this horoscope? Figure out how to beat that shoe sale.

Scorpio:

In typesetting, or type faces, or, more commonly these days? With some fonts, there are included “ligatures.” A ligature is defined as one of those type elements that ties two letters together, like when the ‘a’ and ‘e’ run into each other. Or when the ‘f’ and the ‘l’ are sort of joined. With typesetting on the web, or, really specifying a particular font, because of the variety of user environments, the web-safe fonts, I can’t usually play with a face that’s got ligatures built in, unless, and this gets too complicated, I want to embed the font files themselves on the site. So I don’t get to play with ligatures. In the original version, ligatures were used to tie letters together, made for a more pleasing reading experience.

I want Scorpio to have pleasing “Mercury is Retrograde” experiences. In order for that to happen? Scorpio needs some ligatures installed, little sets of letters that make the eye read the material faster. Symbols that tie materials together. It’s going the extra step to make it work better, and this Mercury Retrograde? You’re going to need to take the extra step to make it better.

Sagittarius:

Over the ensuing years, I’ve grown more and more conversant with Shakespeare’s canon. Then, too, there’s a game I tend to play when I see a quote attributed to Shakespeare, and if I can’t place the quote? I tend to do a quick search. The reason being, there a number of Shakespeare quotes that are taken quite out of context. In my earlier career, I did that, myself, but I’ve learned, and I’ve refined my understanding. What I really wanted to see, and this is the perfect time, a picture of Shakespeare, perhaps one of the iconic images? With a quote, underneath it.

“Most of the quotes on the internet, attributed to me, are fake.”

So it’s a matter of sorting out some details and realizing, sometimes, folks just make stuff up. I don’t, as I’ll observe that this Mercury Retrograde is all in Virgo, with Mars and Saturn in Sagittarius, thank-you-very-much, but this will tend to bring out the fake quote memes. Before recycling that? Check it out and make sure it’s authentic.

Capricorn:

I’ve been in two earthquakes, so far, in my life. One was a major temblor in North California, and I awoke with a start, but the dull roar and shaking subsided as quickly as it started. It was mere, low-grade aftershock. Still counts as an earthquake, at least, in my book. Part of the whole, “I’ve been to California” experience, right? Sure. The other one, that I recall, I slept right through it. It was at the south-eastern edge of San Antonio, and I’m pretty sure, I’ve heard low-riders that shake more than that earthquake. That’s my earthquake experience, both at night, both nothing more than a shake and bake. This week holds a similar experience, only, as Capricorn? Like my experiences? You’re not at the center. It happens, but to some, to most Capricorn? This is noting more than a slight inconvenience. Nothing more. How you deal with it, though? “Oh, I am so sorry to hear that! Are you OK? Is there anything I can do to help?”

That is the corrected, metered Capricorn response.

Aquarius:

Early in my career, I had one of those clients who changes my course. Aquarius. Had to do with how people relate to each other. As an Aquarius, that’s what this is about, it’s about how we relate to each other. How can we show compassion without showing weakness? How can we be understanding without being judgmental? What’s a safe distance? What’s too close? As much as most of fine Aquarius friends would like to have an even and metered response? That’s hard to come by, this next few days.

There’s free-floating anxiety, and while it’s not a directly in Aquarius, you’re going to pick up on it, at least a little. Probably a fair amount. Acknowledge the fear of free-fall. Acknowledge that there’s crap floating loose and free. Maybe, though, as a suggestion? Don’t take it home with you. Embrace it, sure? But offer that angst a home in your heart? Or let that anxiety plant its heart in your home? Neither one works. The goal, next few days, acknowledge but don’t get carried off.

Pisces:

Cadence, first thought, “Cadence.” As a side, ladled up next to Cadence? Rhythm and Meter. But mostly cadence. The biggest trouble? I’m an old, white guy. No rhythm. (Poor fashion sense, too, but that’s not part of this.) I have no rhythm. It’s not a problem, I embrace this, and I fill my world with poetry that has rhyme and meter, plus music with a strong backbeat. Like electronic dance music.

That adds the much-needed rhythm and meter that I crave. There’s also a cadence.

I was attempting to recite one of Shakespeare’s monologues, and instead of sounding even? I sounded like I was counting steps. “Boink-boink-boink.” Along with that? “Ta-dah, ta-dah, ta-dah.” The lyrical verse was hackneyed and sounded like a nursery school rhyme. That cadence? The steady beat, with one up, one down? That’s what it’s all about for Pisces. Not good for reciting long passages of poetry unless you’re reading a Dr. Suess book. Great for making it through this muddling time that appears to make no sense. Cadence. Not much good on poetry, but great for Pisces.

Aries:

How do you show your credentials? How do you show your “street cred?” How does Aries prove that Aries has been there, and done that, a time or two? I have a simple solution when folks ask for my “astrology certification,” I point to my horoscope archives and books in print, as both of those tend to demonstrate, plus, gives a sample, of just what I do. How I work. My style, because, let’s face it, my style isn’t for everyone.

Yet there’s always a question, “Why should I trust you?” I tend to trust Aries first, and only when I’ve been repeatedly burned, only then do I trust a little less. But I do. However, this isn’t about me trusting an Aries in particular, this is about Aries and proving that the Aries has earned the credentials, the rights, the scars, as an Aries? You’ve done the work? Right? What is the best way to demonstrate that? What kind of certificate can you hang on the wall? Many questions, but that answers are already here. In my seriously simple example, my “certification,” my “proof,” my right to suggest I’m good at what I do? Archives of columns, weekly for more than 20 years, plus, thousands of consultations. You’ve probably met someone who has had reading with me. Hate me or love me, there’s the proof. As an Aries, the easiest way to brag? Point to accomplishments, professional, personal, other.

Me? I got degrees, ordinations, certificates, and so forth. Best proof? My archives.

Aries? Where’s your proof?

Hint: dig into the archives, a little deeper, and Aries will always be at the top. Probably Y2K and earlier.

Taurus:

This week needs a touch of garlic. Not much, not loading up the dish of the week with garlic, but just a dash. Not really garlic salt, either, although, that can be preferred by some. I would suggest, there’s a local brand that serves well, and just a dash of its garlic powder is all this week needs to help ease through this muddled mess. Saturn is wrecking havoc with mutable stuff, especially, Sagittarius (thank-you-very-much) and Gemini. Pisces, to certain extent, too, but mostly Sag and Gem. To help with this week’s scattered array of uncomfortable energy? A dash of some spice. I was stirring up leftover veggies, and a dash of garlic helped accentuate the peppers with no more bite added. See? Just a dash. Now, the problem? Taurus, ever worried about senses? That dash could turn from a half a teaspoon, to a rounded tablespoon. Go overboard? That’s too much? Yes, especially when working with something like garlic. Just a hint. A dash, not even a really measurable amount, just a single shake, or two, from the canister.

Gemini:

This goes from hugely confusing to onerous to “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot” in hurry. For Gemini, I prefer to illuminate at least two options, but this week calls for at least three. Mercury? Yeah, that’s tough. Extra tough in this position (Virgo). Mars and Saturn? Opposite in Sagittarius? Yes, and then, that Saturn runs up against Neptune, in Pisces. None of this spells out relief and comfort for Gemini. However, if you were smart enough to follow my Mercury Retrograde prognostications, then you were aware and prepared. This one is tough because it’s going to hamper the Gemini ability to communicate. Write it down and save that missive for later. With Saturn? And then, as Saturn squares Neptune? This is about relationships. Redefine, renegotiate, reinvigorate. Go back over old material and think about how to repurpose it. However, in the face of convention, maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a time to throw any of this away. Hugely confusing time, right? Pile it so you can toss when cooler heads prevail.

Cancer:

I was sitting at a casual dining table with a date. She got a family-business call, and she had to take it, right there at the table. I’ve excused myself to take emergency client calls, so I understand. I started chatting with the waiter. Interesting art on his arms. He had full sleeves. The point of my conversation with him, usually, as I get around to examining the art, there will be a telltale glyph, or, in this example a giant crab clawing its way up one arm, wrapped around in a sea mosaic. “Cancer, huh?”

“Wow, how did you know?”

I’m good at what I do. I took a moment’s break from being entertained by my date to avert my direction to the waiter. There were harsh, hushed tones from my date. Family, huh. Can’t live with them, can’t leave them by the side of the road when they misbehave.

As a Cancer, are we intimately involved in that discussion that is happening in front of us? Are we really a part of that? The correct answer? “No,” as in, “no we are no part of that discussion.” Instead, turn our Moon-Child attention elsewhere, like, talking to the waiter, admiring his art. The waiter understood my predicament.

The Leo:

The problem is Mercury is retrograde and the Sun is in Virgo. Typically, for Leo, for The Leo? This isn’t a big problem, but you’re going to be best served if you stand off to one side for a spell. I’m not suggesting far away. One of my neighbors, this was before water rationing, a majestic Leo guy, he was watering lawn. He was standing off to one side, watching as the world unfolds. Kids across the street are yelling, screaming, and basketball goes flying. Soccer ball. Something. There was a tinkle of broken glass. Buddy, the Leo neighbor? Did nothing.

Moments later, an epic shouting matches erupts, again, across the street. Buddy just keeps water his lawn. I was standing beside him, as I’d gone outside to see what the ruckus was. I was getting excited. Was my Leo buddy going to strap on a sidearm? Wade right on into the fisticuffs and break it up? He held his bemused expression.

“You know they’re teenagers, right? Like dogs, probably ought to just spray them with the hose, but the water’s not cold enough.” He shrugged. Pleasant image.

More yelling from across the street. My majestic Leo buddy? Nothing, other than a sleepy grin. If that trouble made its way across the street? I’m sure he would spray them with water. But otherwise? Stand off to one side. No need to get involved if — in my buddy’s example? They weren’t his kids. No worries.

Leo: watch. Off to one side, watch off to one side. If you’re not directly involved? Don’t insert yourself, not with this much other free-floating crap. No need to get involved in an altercation that doesn’t involve you.