I never did repent for doing good,
Nor shall not now: for in companions
That do converse and waste the time together,
Whose souls do bear an egall yoke of love,
There must be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit;

Portia in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice 3.4.10-5

Horoscopes starting 10.20.2016

Scorpio:

Fishing buddy of mine, his wife needed to ferry a car around, and my buddy was busy at work. “You think Kramer can help?” Two cars, one driver, and a time table. Sure, he’s a friend, I’ll help. Lovely wife, too, but that’s not what this is about. Buddy’s got a boat, and I get to fish. I will be nice and polite. As a Scorpio, there’s time when it pays to just be nice, and do the right thing. Do a favor. Grant a wish, in this case? It was small amount of time, and considering he might have to drive an hour or more out of his way to fetch me for fishing, yeah, I can easily spare the time. Here’s the hard part, I was relaxed, late afternoon and I was in my typical sleeping attire by supper time. Call came at four, or a little after, so I was headed to the couch to read. I hastily changed out of sleep-wear, pulled on a a pair of shorts, sandals and a shirt, and I was good to go. Except for the sandals, I was pretty much still attire as I was before, not much of a change, different by degrees.

Scorpio: “Think you can help me?”

Sure, sure you can, just as I did. As a Scorpio? We’re investing in our future.

Sagittarius:

“It’s ok as long as it doesn’t have fur on it,” she said. I was treating a buddy’s kid, I don’t know, between 3, maybe 5 or 6 years old? It was a happy meal at the place that sells happy meals because, as kids that age, that is what, that’s the only thing they would eat. Don’t preach to me about the content of the food, by then, if the kid is happy, we eat there.

Kid dropped a food-like nugget with a crispy dried-like exterior on the floor. Kid grabbed it up, looked at it, plainly stated, “It’s OK, there’s no fur on it,” and popped it into the wee kid mouth.

The lesson for Sagittarius? If there is no fur on it? It’s OK. That kid is strong, hearty, healthy. Can eat right off the floor at that place. Think about that. Scary thought. I wouldn’t eat it but, as the kid analyzed the situation and made a quick-response decision?

It’s OK, there’s no fur on it.

Enjoy. Enjoy, Sagittarius — as long as there’s no fur on it.

Capricorn:

I never heard of it before. Air Force buddy, used to crew on the big cargo Galaxy? C-5? C-130? I’m unsure, he was a mechanic, loadmaster, something. Lots of stripes. Used to do something Air Force-like, and he had a quick solution to this week’s Capricorn issues.

“Four-inch drop-fix.”

Apparently, it was fairly routine kind of maintenance issue, and a common fix. The “four-inch drop-fix” seemed to work best on the countless mechanical relays that powered those planes. As the name implies, unbolt the offending part, drop it to the deck from a height of four inches or so. Frequently, the part comes “unstuck,” and it starts to work correctly.

I had a starter relay (solenoid) on an old truck, and just tap it with a wrench and it would work again, sometimes. Similar to the “four-inch drop-fix.” While I’ve never heard of this specific fix before, I’m rather familiar with the concept, a simple jolt to jar something loose, like kicking the tires of a car. Does anyone really kick the tires anymore? I’m unsure if that analogy carries. The Capricorn notion, though, is simple. It’s a “four-inch drop-fix” to make this work. The other part of that kind of fix? It doesn’t mean hurl the piece off the side of a building, that’s way more than four inches.

Aquarius:

This was a much easier excuse to use when I lived on the water in Austin, “I’m busy on another line” works. I would have a fishing pole in hand, and that made the statement more accurate and more interesting, at least, to me it did. I was busy on another line. Happened to be a fishing line, but I’m not sure how important that is to Aquarius.

“I’m busy on another line.”

There’s a time to have a ready excuse available, as need be, for this week.

Imagine, you’re bayside, dockside, creekside, on a bass boat in the middle of a lake, phone jingles, and you can use that expression, “I’m busy on another line.”

Late season bay fishing at the Gulf is good right now. Call me, I’m liable to answer, “I’m on another line right now.”

Pisces:

Listening to a client, it was a strange story about his aging mom. “She would go to this one place and order a tequila, a Margarita, every time. Wouldn’t drink it, but they carded her, every time, so she would order a drink.” I’ve lived in enough college towns to understand that carding someone is almost a requirement, no matter what the person looks like. Of course, I find that amusing, at best, but not being much a drinking man these days, I’m not moved by that particular action. As a Pisces, this is about actions that might, or might not, be costly, and that have definite perks to them. In the example, and why it was so perfect, the “mom” didn’t actually drink anything, just ordered liquor for the sake of being carded. Return to youth. Nice gesture. Symbolic and real, too. Pretty sure it was company policy to card everyone, but who cares? It works. Company policy, followed to the letter, and everyone was a winner.

Aries:

Break up the chores. I have a number of tasks that border on “repetitive,” which, to a good Aries? That can be “boring.” When using the word, “Boring,” it’s best to imagine a teenager, with the roll of the eyes, and the long vowels, the emphasis on “bo——ring” with extra, unspoken punctuation.

To prevent this for Aries? Break up the repetitive tasks. Do a little of this, then a little of that. Some over here, some over there. Stay on point, or better yet, try to get three things done, a little of each for a few minutes, then on the next one , then back to the first one and the one in the middle, get an image?

Break it up.

Taurus:

I was listening to “internet radio,” which really isn’t radio because internet radio isn’t “broadcast,” other than I was using some wireless speakers, so, strictly speaking the sound patterns were broadcast via bluetooth radio frequency to the speakers, and this has nothing to do with what I wanted to work with Taurus about. It’s about buffering. Internet radio is a weird medium in and of itself. I figure a podcast is about the same as an internet radio program, although mine tend to be much shorter. This is about buffering, though, and that’s what’s happening in Taurus. With Taurus. It’s buffering. Not everyone can have access to Google Fiber with its brilliant throughput. I got all kinds of pissed off at all the cable providers at one point, and went with the cheapest, least expensive broadband option there was, straight DSL, and I suffered accordingly. I spent a year with slow, slow access and almost no video services because it was so slow; I know buffering. So this week is like listening to “internet radio” on a really slow connection. There’s buffering while songs pause, commentary stops in mid-sentence, and the images tend to freeze for a moment’s pause. I’d call this “First World Problems,” but that’s hardly the issue. It’s about buffering and letting that happen. Built in stutters and pauses for Taurus.

Gemini:

The longer I’m on the planet the more I realize that there’s really nothing new under the sun. What goes around comes around, and it happens over and over. As a Gemini, this means that there’s something that’s been around, and you’ve dismissed, and that item (thing, person, pet) is back. There’s an attachment to this thing, this person, that pet, whatever it is? There’s an attachment that you feel, as a Gemini, and it’s not the usual way you feel. This lingering attachment, a sentiment, not overly sentimental, but still, a sentiment? It’s from Venus, or rather, the influence of Venus in the sign opposite from Gemini, and as such, there’s a palpable sense that this is meant to be, despite what you think.

The influence and relative impact of Saturn in Sagittarius with this lost/found/lost sentiment is profound, but there’s a point, fast approaching. Here’s where I earn my dollars. Don’t get invested in the outcome of seeing, hearing, feeling that person, place or thing again. The long-lost object of the Gemini sentiment and attention? After you’ve visited it, this week or next? Might want to set it free again.

Cancer:

Old trick, always served me well. I would do laundry for me and a girlfriend, maybe once. I would wash bright colors and whites, lights and darks, all together. I would tend to use the “cold and gentle” setting on the washing machine because I like bright shirt to remain bright as long as possible. However, all women, or most of them, of a certain age (age-appropriate for me), most of those females recoil in abject horror at my laundry skills. Which means, over the course of dating, I get to do less and less laundry.

So the trick is to make a mistake, an obvious mistake and then to have that task ripped from our grasp. How, as a Cancer, can you use my example? Make a mistake, an obvious one. Then watch as the person correcting you, what you’ll likely hear this week? Follow my advice?

“Oh, you’ll just screw it up. Here, let me do that for you.”

As a Cancer sun sign, with the relative impulses from various planets? The answer? Not that I’m a big fan of brevity, but when you hear, “Let me do that for you?” The correct answer?

“OK.”

The Leo:

For many years, I had a kitchen table that served as my work-space. I still talk about “Kitchen table” readings, as that’s a valid kind of service. Tends to be a little informal, and it tends to be slightly more intimate than otherwise, due, in part to the presence of a kitchen. In one place, more than one place, think trailer parks in South Austin, I never used the oven. I did use it, but it was for storage, not for baking. If food can’t be prepared in the microwave, or if it doesn’t involve boiling water (coffee & tea), then I’m not particularly interested. Which just brings the kitchen table point around, as there’s an air of familiarity, a closeness, an implied intimacy that comes from frankly relaxed surroundings. I’ve thought about going back to kitchen table readings, now that I have small kitchen table again.

For the majestic Leo, this week is about framing something around the kitchen table. Maybe not the kitchen table, maybe some other casual setting. The trick is to keep it casual and that helps it seem like it’s an intimate setting. What this is about, trying to get a little closer — it helps to let other folks think and feel that this is a sensuous, one-on-one with the wonderful Leo.

Kitchen table readings, kitchen table talk, private in a new way.

Virgo:

With Halloween fast upon us? All those Scorpio birthdays, and whatnot happening? Time for Virgo to “Fly under the radar.” I seriously doubt that there’s really anyplace that is “Under the radar,” as surveillance and observation has taken over. Not many places left to hide, that’s a problem. However, the idea is that we don’t have to get our Virgo selves worked up and in a position where we attract a lot of attention. Demure. Quiet, even. “Let me just say this about what you just said,” is a common Virgo-like rejoinder. My answer, to the Virgo thought that you were going to answer?

“Don’t.”

“But their reply begs a snarky retort!” Exclaims my little Virgo friend.

It does, but not right now. A little less volume and more effort at not attracting attention to yourself. You’ll be better served like that.

Libra:

When I was looking at my schedule, I realized I had a few long afternoons on planes. Been while since I’ve done that, but most of my professional career was built around “commuter” commercial travel. So seeing as how I was looking at a few afternoons that would be spent sitting in a long, metal tube, hurtling through the atmosphere, cramped and uncomfortable seating, surly attendants, I dug into a Libra bag of tricks. I grabbed a book, not really a best-seller, but not bad book, either. Part spiritual, part metaphysical, part good fun, and, most important, a printed copy. With where things are, much as I love reading digital copy? Printed out. Hard copy. A “book” book.

As a Libra, what’s most important, and some will suggest you’re really a Luddite, but what’s most important is to have a printed out version. A card, a piece of paper, a receipt, or, in the example I liked, a book. A book by a Libra author, too, not that it matters.

Getting on the plane, at one point? I had a printed out boarding pass tucked into the book. To some, as they waved phones under the scanner and beeped onto the next flight leg? I looked old-fashioned. But when the on-flight WiFi doesn’t work? I was still contentedly reading a novel. Pretty good book.