Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat;
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

Cassius in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar I.iii.91-7

Horoscopes starting 2/16/2017

Pisces:

There’s a special aroma, a smell, a kitchen smell, and for me, it signals the start of something new.

It’s an aroma fraught with promise, appeal, akin to that sense of Christmas Morning when all wishes will be fulfilled. There’s an excitement, too, that comes with this. It’s the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. I caught heady whiff of this, the other morning, cold morning, near freezing, too cold for me to be out. I grabbed a batch of beans from a local roaster, small batch of coffee beans, still oily and ripe with that smell. French Roast, beans from Mexico, politically correct, small-batch roasted, just delightful arrangement for my morning brew. As the grinder did its thing, then as I tipped the beans into the press-pot to make the first cup, that fragrant scent washed over me, quickening my blood, heart racing in anticipation.

It’s just coffee.

That pungent, almost cloying whiff of the freshly-ground beans, though, that’s what hope this week holds. There’s an opening, and the trick is to not fall for just the promise, like that aromatic blend of fresh ground, ark roast beans.

How does that coffee taste?

Aries:

Having never had children myself, stepping into a “Grandfather” roll is fun for me. All the amusement of children with none of the associated cost or containment issues. I was feeding, or rather, there when the child was eating, and more important, interacting with food. It was “queso,” a local dish that is mostly a melted cheese-like substance with some kind of seasoning tossed in for good measure.

The kid addressed its finger, coated with with yellow-orange queso, “I love you. I want to marry you, but now I have to eat you.” Slurp. Cheese dip gone. This action was carried forward until the slightly exasperated grandmother suggested to stop playing with the food. I was mesmerized. The idea of love, food, and now, on the far side of both a full moon and that stupid Valentine’s Day, we’re looking at that kid and its reaction, or actions. “I love you. I want to marry you, but now i have to eat you.”

What this means, translated into Aries? Venus and Mars are in Aries, and the influence gets stronger. Watching that child’s brain work through the definitions of love, the hierarchy in its wee, child’s brain? Which need must be answered first? Love or food?

I hope, by now, the good Aries will know that I’d suggest food is more important — but that’s just me. Mars and Venus, especially next week, week after? Mars is going to make this really interesting. (Mars conjoins Uranus in the heavens.)

Taurus:

Rarely, if ever, do I categorize a Taurus as being “hasty,” or worse, “too hasty.” Not a typical generalization about the Bull, the Taurus Bull. Strong as an ox, associated with Venus and therefore, quite sensual, a veritable garden of earthly delights, yes, Taurus has many admirable qualities. But “Too quick” is not a standard term for Typical Taurus. There was one, and when her babies were in the slightest hint of harm? That one Taurus moved really, really quickly. But no, not a standard characteristic assigned to this sign.

Hashtag, “Just Sayin’.”

The first few days of this horoscope, there’s an angry, irritable, sentiment plaguing Taurus, which, in turn, can evoke a hasty reaction, a knee-jerk response that might not be the best. That feeling is carried forward into the second half of this horoscopes, but the irritation is going down, the swelling is subsiding. Still, there’s a situation that might provoke a too hasty reaction from Taurus. Not saying for sure, but reacting too quickly might not be the best way to reply and/or respond.

Taurus: One step back before you jump on it.

Hashtag, “Just Sayin’.”

Gemini:

Two words that begin with the letter “C” are part of this week’s Gemini missive. “Clarity” and “Cleanliness” are the words that come to mind. There’s a strong planetary suggestion that clarity is now available to Gemini. Been waiting on this, and as the Sun heads towards Pisces, you gain clarity around a certain issue that’s been bugging you. Most common reply? “I can see clearly now.” So “Clarity” is part of Gemini’s message. There were two words, though, and the second part of the clarity image is “Cleanliness.”

The biggest obstacle with the clarity that arrives, for Gemini, the biggest problem? There’s some clean-up left-over, and now’s the time to attend to this. The last few days of Aquarius promises clarity about a certain issue, but the first few days of Pisces means — you’ve got some stuff to clean up. Now you know. Or you will know. Clarity then cleanliness. Goes in that order, and the problem being the cleanliness is up to Gemini to fix. Doesn’t fall on anyone else.

“I see what I need to do.”

So do it.

Simple, right?

Cancer:

“Wow, Kramer, you look so, so, nice? I’m not used to seeing you…” The ellipsis are always loaded in a conversation like this. “You’re not used to seeing me with clothes on?”

Smirk.

A sly, Cancer smirk.

I had on boots, dark jeans, a long-sleeve black t-shirt, and sports jacket. Sports coat. Whatever those are called, dressy kind of jacket-thing. Lots of pockets and stuff, know what I mean? The first time I got that reaction it was funny. The second time, kind of amusing, but along about the third or fourth time? Not nearly as meaningful, but it did start me thinking, maybe I should dress more carefully. Maybe appearance really does matter. Maybe I should try for more flash and less trash. Maybe I should spend less time worrying about this, too. With Mars and Venus where they are, it’s going to create tension and potential problems for how Cancer thinks about outward appearances. Me? I spend very little time worrying about my outward appearance, other than that brief interaction, the other day.

Your Cancer appearance, or so it will feel, is going to draw criticism. Maybe not criticism, but ire, adoration, notice, comment, something. You can go down that rabbit-hole, more like a worm-hole, of worrying about it. Or, like me, next day it was nice? I’m back to shorts and sandals, T-shirts and Hawaiian prints. Just easier to not worry.

The Leo:

Car Culture fascinates me, as I’m no longer part of it in any way, shape, or form. Just not there, not for me, so the culture is even more interesting and appealing, to me. The bumpersticker read, “Never give up,” with a second line, “Cowgirl Tough.” From what I know of ranchers and their ilk, yeah, the work is hard, and the women tend to be tougher than most. The cowgirls are usually a lot tougher than the cowboys, as a casual observation from my vantage point, sitting on the rail of a fence. That the sticker was on the back of a working truck with over-sized tires, the kind of vehicle it wouldn’t be unusual to see a bale of hay in the bed. As The Leo, this is the week to be, “Cowgirl Tough.” Even better, as The Leo? that letting? On the truck, a working truck, probably a ranch or farm vehicle? “Cowgirl tough,” that’s my Leo message. Mars and Venus make this easier, but think along those lines, “Cowgirl Tough.” In pink, no less.

Virgo:

Yawn. I’m so tired of this one. Yet, here it comes again, the oldest trope in my business, and one that I’m afraid to use, but here it comes. “Coming at you, baby.” Mars and Venus, and especially as Mars draws closer to Uranus in the early evening? Just after sunset, there they are, and that’s all about weird relationships in Virgo–land. How weird?

Oldest line I’ve got, and yet, I’ll trot it out again, “Tall dark handsome stranger from a foreign land.”

I get tired of it, recycled material and one that I’m loathe to use, but there’s method in my madness, to thoroughly confuse some of the metaphors, method yet, you’ll see, Virgo, you’ll see.

There is the nebulous beginning of a new relationship, partnership of sorts, with a person, or entity, from a varied and substantially different background than your Virgo self.

Libra:

Insidious interruptions lead to a certain “dithering” effect in Libra. For Libra. Around Libra. It’s, like, there’s an issue, and we really need to get on this, like, you know, right now, but, you know, I wanted to make sure this was the correct way to approach this, and then, there’s that other thing I wanted, might ought to do, first.

You know?

Understand that expediency is what really matters, and the time spent making a list, then checking the list, then looking to make sure there are adequate supplies, and the petty cash is OK, and then, see how this works?

There’s a whole industry built around lists and getting everything checked off the list, a virtual “To Do” industry. Software, paper lists, paper for making lists, the perfect pen for writing that list with, a piece of software that reminds the phone to remind your Libra self that it’s time to look at the list? Gets complicated. The problem being, you’re spending time avoiding — dithering — when just tackling the task would result in being finished by now.

“Let me check my list, first.”

Scorpio:

Do the research.

It’s really simple.

Do the research.

I got cold-called by a person wishing to sell me something. Person was selling a product that involved making/scraping content for web pages. “You look like you could use some fresh content on your blog!” Seriously, no. For good or for ill, I write all my own material. Not that I couldn’t use a decent copy editor, but that wasn’t any part of the pitch. It was to sell me something that I already have, and it indicated that I was interacting with a person who had totally failed at the “homework” — or even a modicum of research — anything.

Total fail on that getting my attention.

So, how does this apply to Scorpio? Learn, sideways, from that lesson. Do the homework. Before you pitch an idea, before you cold-call, before you say “Yes” to that pitch? Or before you pitch?

Do the research.

In this example, a simple clicking around on my site, less than three minutes of exploration, that would reveal I don’t use scrapers, and I don’t post content that I don’t write myself. For good or for ill, all me, baby.

All natural.

Scorpio: Do the research, first.

Sagittarius:

I can write, like, take notes, faster with a keyboard, even faster with a software keyboard than I can if I write by hand. Not complaining, this is the result of three decades’ work. Devices, like phones and tablets? Sure, those are handy. However, I transitioned into the digital as an early adopter, and I never looked back. I did look back, but not for long. The digital version is what works best for me. I keep copious notes and files stuffed with arcane and anecdotal evidence, observations that might, or might not, make it into a piece of my work. The idea is there, though, the idea is there. So this was less about taking notes and more about how I might, or might not, take notes. As a Sagittarius, the old ways, sometimes, the old way die hard. We are reluctant to let go of our old methodology and the comfortable, well-worn routes we use to get from here to there.

“We always done it this way?”

That doesn’t apply. There’s a new way to work, or, perhaps, it’s an old method, which has just recently resurfaced. Towards that end, I got out a notepad, one I liked, and a favorite type of pen, purple ink, it’s a Sagittarius thing, and then, I started to sketch the ideas. Once the ideas started to flow again? I switched back to digital ink because analog is too slow for my Sagittarius brain.

To get this week’s energy kick-stated? Start out with a new/old process, and switch back to the usual method, once the juices get flowing. Seriously, I can type faster than I can write.

Capricorn:

With the advent of modern medicine, such as it is, there’s new strains of super bugs that crop up, as we go along. What is happening in Capricorn? “Bullshit Resistant Bullshit.” While, I hope, not a medical issue, there is the problem with the BS — organic male bovine by-product — that is getting stronger and stronger.

Usually, I can deflect a little bit of this. Usually. Usually, I can counter a little dollop of BS with a bit of my own, to counteract the effects. Reduces the efficacy of the spewer’s BS, and it turns into a contest to see who is more full of it. As a Sagittarius, I’m not warning you, I have the advantage when it comes to tall tales, yarns and improbable fictions. Just suggesting.

Capricorn is going to be infected with “BRB,” which is short for BS Resistant BS,” which, as we know, is short for the rude term, “Bullshit Resistant Bullshit.” Which is the problem you’re up against.

Solution? Back away from the infected site. When you detect BS? Stop. Go no further. Treat it like an infectious disease and don’t provide a live host on which it can grow.

Most important? Don’t try my trick of just shoveling it back. I’m a Sagittarius; I can get way with that. Capricorn? Might fly back in your face.

Aquarius:

When I suggest this week’s energy for Aquarius? I make this suggestion with all humidity. I’d grovel some, but that might not work. There’s a certain type of energy required to advance yourself, your good, Aquarius self. You would be best served by being a sycophant.

There are other, less salubrious terms, but yeah, the nice one works best. Pretend that you have to be nice. Pretend that you’re doing this because you want to appear nice. You might be quite nice, I would tend to think so, but this is a time that’s best served by the seemingly redundant social niceties.

Me: “Suck it up, butter cup.”

Aquarius: Tight, forced smile. No comment. Or?

“Nice shoes.”