Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,
When gold and silver becks me to come on.

Philip the Bastard in
Shakespeare’s King John (3.3.12–3)

The term, from that passages in Shakespeare’s King John, “Bell, book, and candle” is what caught my attention, listening to the play. Bit of superstitious material buried in the texts.

Working a wee bit of faery magic, the little one goes unretrograde, ere long.

Horoscopes starting 9.22.2016

Libra:

After you’ve spent any kind of quality time around me, you begin to realize that I’m a little brash, blunt, and almost needlessly direct. Not all the time, and I do have my finer moments when I can gather my thoughts and present material with more artful, perhaps gentler chiding instead of just blurting out the answer. I’ve never claimed otherwise. Just so there’s no misrepresentation of facts, I’m drawing attention to one of my behavior traits, as an example of what type of energy is running through the Libra limbs, even now, and what kind of action your Libra self might want to avoid.

Don’t blurt it out. Don’t act rashly. Don’t act brazenly. Don’t stick your foot in your mouth. Happy birthday. Now, more than ever, a metered, measured response is best. Happy birthday. It bodes well, but don’t answer too quickly. Happy birthday!

Scorpio:

At least one of my Scorpio friends will recoil in horror at this next suggestion. Several will make claims that I’m out-of-place, or out of line, and that my suggestion isn’t a good one. One Scorpio will reach for a “fainting bottle” of spirits, to assuage that feeling of panic. My simplest suggestion?

Over-the-Counter medication. What ails mighty Scorpio at this moment? There’s a pill in the aisles of the drugstore. I know one homeopathic doctor who thinks this is way wrong. I know another Naturopath, again, will suggest I’m way off base. Finally, at least one herbalist will chime in, too. The current Scorpio symptoms respond best to a simple chemical compound. This isn’t a terribly difficult proposition. Garlic, Apple Cider Vinegar, Cayenne, Cinnamon, all of these are tools in my medical bag. But this week? Scorpio? Grab some aspirin for the headache. Not chewing on the root of an Elderberry Bush, no, pop a pill. Western Medicine doesn’t know everything, and much of the politics of medicine is wrapped in profits for drug companies, and this gets into a debate I’m not prepared for. This week, the cure is a simple over-the-counter medication.

Sagittarius:

Each week, I spin a chart around and look at the locations of the various planets, plot the motions of the Moon, and gather up a general, and specific, set ideas about what the week spells out. There are two ways this works, and first, most immediate response? Just put my head in my hands and cry. Maybe not really cry, but there’s a sense of futility, not always a Sagittarius characteristic, but there is a sense of hopelessness about a given situation. We, as half-man, half-horse, we have no control over the situation – or its outcome. Why we hang our heads and cry.

The other option? I can’t really find an easy way out of this, so there is that. There is a chance to move this from its current location to a new location. We both know that just moving a problem from “here” to “there” doesn’t fix a damn thing. However, it does give other people a chance to get a different perspective. While I can’t solve any problems, not this week, as Mars moves towards, and eventually, into, Capricorn? We can catch a break. Fresh perspectives don’t solve the problem, but we can do more than just hang our heads and cry.

Capricorn:

Got a challenge for you, as Mars eventually makes a troublesome angle to Jupiter. Got a simple action, an easy request. Maybe “easy” isn’t the correct word. As a Capricorn, you move through this world a little more highly evolved than most. You’ve got a greater sense of “karma,” or whatever you choose to call that notion. I see my Capricorn friends as moving with a higher degree of integrity than most. That higher calling is being tapped this next few days. You’re going to be charged with “Doing the right thing,” which might be uncomfortable, or without immediate gratification, or both.

The standard, New-Age crap? “Do one thing nice, today, for someone, with no recognition.” That’s the idea, seriously, only, this is an action that’s got a bit of long-term goodness attached. What it is? I can’t say for sure. I can be safe in suggesting that you can expect no notice, no gratification, no “Job well-done,” no accolades, nothing. Mars is headed towards your sign, and enters in the next week. Got to get comfortable with extra energy, and the correct use of extra energy.

Aquarius:

As Mercury unwinds from being in its retrograde pattern, I get this sudden flush of new material.

It’s been scrolled up, spooled up, patiently waiting for the right time, and this next few days, on into next week? This is the right time. Now is the time start pushing that Aquarius Agenda Ahead, the “Triple A Approach,” as I’d like to think of it. The three letters stand for Aquarius Agenda Ahead.

There’s a secondary element that plays well into this, with Aquarius Agenda Ahead, and the “Triple A Approach,” as its name implies, three? The close of this week, the weekend? It require three attempts. Three tries. Keep advancing that Aquarius Ahead Agenda, but be warned that one, or more, of the efforts will be temporary stymied.

Temporary.

If this were normal, or if Aquarius was normal, then this would be a different set of instruction. However, an Aquarius will understand that we don’t know which one of the three efforts will be rewarded. Might be the first try, might be the second, might take all three. Approach it with the idea that it will take three tries. You can always get back to me on which way worked to advance the Aquarius Ahead Agenda.

Pisces:

I’ve had a love/hate relationship with technology, most of my adult life, although, some aren’t so sure I’m anything but adult-age, maybe not adult-behavior, but this isn’t about me.

This is about Pisces, and through my lens, what I see is my love/hate relationship with tech. Technology is great, but it can be overwhelming. There’s the reverse side of that, as well, where technology is great, but then, there are people who fail to use that technology to its fullest. This week offers a shortcut, of sorts. There’s an easy way around a situation, but you have to use some modern-day tech. The simplest example is how the camera shrunk until it fit into a phone, and then, the whole notion of digital images, real or imagined? The photo-manipulation software, the most prevalent? Photoshop. The name become a verb, as in, “Is that real, or was it Photoshopped?” Which points back to the original problem with love/hate and tech. I’m offering up some advice for this week’s Pisces flavors: Use the tech, maybe new tech, but use the tech as much as you’re comfortable with, and above that? “This machine is really handy for playing games on, and look, I can read e-mail!” If that’s the Pisces comfort level? Then leave it there. All about comfort levels in the love/hate war with tech. Love-fest. Just use the parts you like.

Aries:

There was an old burger joint, back in the old neighborhood, and that burger place was famous for its “Secret Sauce.” The recipe for the “secret sauce, which was applied liberally to all the burgers, unless requested not add the stuff? The secret sauce was nothing more than a not-so proprietary blend of catsup and mayonnaise. Pink in color, bland in texture, not exactly spicy, but not exactly too familiar.

Just odd enough to stand out, and set the one burger place apart from every other burger joint in town. I’d treat out-of-town guests, and typically, they would marvel at the flavor from a burger dive. Not really that unusual, the recipe for that “secret sauce.” Last of Mercury, first of Jupiter, New Moon on the horizon? Aries needs some secret sauce. I think it’s really a lot simpler than some would have you believe. Mix ketchup and mayo, get to consistency that you like, and call it good. “Secret Sauce,” it’s the secret way for Aries to excel.

Taurus:

My musical experience is pretty limited. There’s one side to me that’s nothing but old — usually Texas — country crooners. Traditional, and neoclassical country. Then there’s the affectation I have for some of the Electronic Dance Music, and I’m unsure of its current correct appellation. There’s a narrow window of 80’s music that I have a fundamental, working knowledge of, but we’ll just chalk that up to a misspent youth.

I was listening to something on the radio, which I don’t get, as it was internet-only, and the new music had an unmistakable riff from an early 90’s synthesizer. It’s almost a gaming tone. Light, and less bass than usual, so it brings in the highs, or the mid-range with no backing to its bass line. That music evokes a flashback, an audio flashback of sorts, and that’s this week’s idea, an audio-like flashback. Not delving deep, not going into it too far, either. Glance back. Mercury is like a small plane in a steep dive, and it’s pulling up to level off soon. After you’ve got control of that steep dive and start to even out? You can risk a glance back, like that flash to a 90’s synth in the song. Weird, huh.

Gemini:

“Jump!”

When I see it written out like that? I get a very visceral image of an old, propeller-driven aircraft, the back door just a bay, and the Jump Master, screaming, “Go-go-go!”

Slapping skydivers on their backs and giving them all a good shove out the door, then jumping after them, then the plane is empty save for the pilot. In this image? I’m the Jump Master, and Gemini is one of the skydivers.

“Jump!”

It’s not really a leap of faith. If you’re seriously worried? Pack your own parachute. Pack a spare chute. Or, take this on a more metaphorical level and don’t jump out of any airplanes, but think about that big step. Next week, Monday, no, next Tuesday? Get ready to take a leap forward. One small leap forward for Gemini, but to the rest of us? It looks like a very big, a very big and brave Gemini step forward.

“Jump!”

Cancer:

There’s an edge that the next few weeks will have, owed, in part to Mars. There’s an edge to Mars and he’s like a two-edged blade, can cut both ways, coming and going. Can cut for good, like removing an offending part or cutting out a disease. Or can be harmful, hurtful, just a snide, cutting remark. The point is to be careful of the point of that double-edged Mars blade. Double-doubled-edge because, sooner or later, Mars lines up with Pluto. The significance of Pluto can’t be underestimated, whether it’s a planet, dwarf planet, or just an asteroid. I spent years collecting pocketknives, looking for the perfect blade. Perfect fit. At a saddle shop in the furthest reaches of West Texas, I found a near perfect blade. Problem being, what was good then? And what’s good now? Security, as freedom has eroded, I can’t carry my harmless pocket knife as many place, now. I was sharpening that knife the other afternoon, more out of habit than any really cutting jobs, and I pricked the ball of my thumb with the point. Still sharp. Mars is like that, still razor-sharp, if you’re not careful, there will be blood drawn. Starts early next week, but I’d begin practicing being extra-careful, now.

The Leo:

Careful with magnificent Leo phrasing. The words, the meanings, what you’re trying to string together to make sense? If this is strict Leo-to-Leo conversation? No problem! The obfuscation occurs when there are other, non-Leo participants. Or, even if you’re talking to another Leo Sun Sign, if that person doesn’t have enough Leo engaged? There will be a breakdown. The intended message get garbled. “But Mercury isn’t retrograde?” Exactly, but Mars shifts signs and that ramps this up a bit. You get to where, as The Leo, you get to where you’re talking either too fast or too much, and normal people, the lesser 11 signs, we can’t keep up with your volume. I’ll manage about every other word, but most folks will only get every third word. So that’s a very Leo problem.

My suggestion, for the royal Leo self? Slow down the pacing. Build in pause or two, so we can keep pace. Stop frequently and ask, “Are you getting this? Can you repeat back to me the gist of what I just outlined?”

Virgo:

When I’m fishing for Reds in the early fall, depends on what bait seems to be working, and it depends on the condition of the water, but I tend to favor shrimp. I’ll tend to start the day with a quart of fresh, live shrimp and the way I attach the live crustacean to the hook? Just a single poke, sideways, through the tail. I also figure that the shrimp has a fighting chance of escaping the hook and being free. Mostly, they get gobbled by big Reds and Speckled Sea Trout. As the day wears on, or if the water is heavily soiled, stained, and muddy? Dead or “fresh dead” shrimp works better. Those I’ll treat like a crawdad and pinch the head off. What’s left, I’ll thread on the hook like a worm.

Different approaches for changing conditions. Have to be adaptable. The other afternoon? I snagged a blue crab, and it became bait, as well.

Have to adaptable to whatever the conditions are, and realize, too, that the conditions can vary, minute-to-minute. Have to be very adaptable. For Virgo, if we’re fishing in the next few days? Realize that we need to be prepared for any kind of condition, but I’d guess the fishing — doesn’t matter what you’re fishing for — be willing to shift and change as need be to make it work best.