By Jupiter, an angel! Or if not,
An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy!

Belarius in Shakespeare’s Cymbeline 3.6.42-4

Horoscopes starting 2.9.2017

Aquarius:

Happy birthday or happy Valentine’s Day or happy whatever it is you might be celebrating. There’s a sense that a number of events, in the Life Aquarius, a number of events are starting to line up in a much more hospitable way. The biggest obstacle, and it’s not really much of a problem, but the largest impediment towards moving forward with the Aquarius hopes and plans for the future? Phase of the Moon. Once that moon slides out its “full” position, there’s a number of people who won’t be as ebullient and forward thinking as Aquarius. It’s not a bad time, so much as folks are less willing to share in your Aquarius-tinged excitement.

The trick is to internalize the excitement. The way it looks, there’s a ton of potential Aquarius happiness to share, but maybe, this isn’t the most correct time to share it — publicly. As Mars and Venus course their way through Aries, and as Jupiter sets up opposite from Uranus? Good stuff for Aquarius, but a more subdued approach might be best.

Pisces:

Shortly after sunset, Venus and Mars are visible, setting in a few hours, chasing the Sun, so to speak.

“Them’s the ‘love planets,’ you know…”

Yes, and they are cooking Aries. Aries comes after Pisces — this week’s about the affect of those planets on the Pisces psyche.

There’s a superstitious gesture, a symbolic move, some type of action required to help move the energy this planetary pair invokes, there’s a requirement of Pisces. Do something.

For me, when I’m riding with fishing buddy, he has a tendency, no condemnation, just observation, to blow through “really yellow lights,” or to some, this would be a traffic light that’s “pink.” “It wasn’t really red, it was just sort of pink, right?”

Whatever works. When he does that? I kiss my fingertips and touch the front of the truck’s cab. From me to whatever belief systems seems to work, I’m paying homage to the gods of traffic to protect us through the intersection and hope there isn’t a traffic camera or cop. It’s about a ritual to engage the present energy. The love planets are curling Pisces, what are you doing to engage that energy?

Aries:

I had one girlfriend, “A hand-lettered card is way more important than jewelry,” she said. Turns out, that might not have been exactly true. It’s not that I’m cheap, I just don’t know much about jewelry, and precious stones are too dear. However, I’m not very good at hand-written love notes, either. Partially, because, after so many years with keyboards, I just have piss-poor penmanship. Partly, too, because it’s a lost art, and one I don’t intend to rescue. However, a simple, thoughtful gift, wherein it’s not an expensive gift, the works wonders. Different girlfriend, one Valentine’s Day, she got a CD. Artist I adore, and the CD was something I probably wouldn’t have bought until I’d found it in the “used” or “remaindered” areas. So that was super-nice, for me.

These are pecuniary examples of how to celebrate the event one of my buddies calls, “National Extortion Day.”

The issue is to make sure the thought is conveyed. With the unsettling approach of Jupiter and Uranus in opposition? Look for the correct, inexpensive if possible, way to express that sentiment. Mars and Venus are gearing up, best be ready.

Taurus:

There’s exactly one Taurus I know who is just fine, just-fine-thank-you-very-much, at this moment. One. Out of the plethora of Taurus that I adore. One. The rest? It’s an unsettling combination of two, no three, maybe more, astrological elements, notably Mars and Venus in Aries, and Uranus oppose Jupiter, and the Sun in Aquarius. See how this works out? Individually, there’s an effective way to deal with these energies, but for poor Taurus, except for that one? For poor, poor Taurus, there’s a lot of astrological juice that’s uncomfortable. No Taurus likes the discomfort. That one Taurus? The secret? Understand there are forces pushing, pulling, demanding, and otherwise, trying to force a situation. Best Taurus skill to employ? Patience. That trademark Taurus patience and ability to sit longer, and thereby, outlast, any other sources of this — temporary — consternation. There’s still this one Taurus, and for that one? Everything is OK, no patience required.

Gemini:

The trick is to understand and embrace the distractions. I was wandering around the grocery store the other afternoon, getting some swiss chard for supper. That, along with half an onion I got left over, be a good enough meal. As I meandered, watching the people shop, I had distinct flash of myself. There was a guy, maybe then years older than me, shuffling along, pushing a cart with some greens and, he had a jacket that covered a brightly patterned shirt, and then, at his neck a rather colorful — and clashing colors at that — bandana was loosely knotted. He had a scared and haunted look. It was like, I was looking at myself, ten years from now. That afternoon, I was just going from meeting a client, I was more formally attired, jeans, boots, dress shirt, untucked, but also not wrinkled, and my bandana was tight across my forehead, keeping my hair in check.

Embrace the distractions. Like having a future self check in with your current self, like, that haunted look? What can we do to prevent that?

One of the Geminichallenges? Not get distracted. This next few days? Distractions are good. Embrace the distractions.

Cancer:

There’s a scent, I’m unsure if it is still popular, but it was called “Freshly Laundered Linen.” Had blue candles. Now, if you’ve ever lived in a trailer in South Austin, or on the south side of San Antonio, in a less than salubrious neighborhood, you’ll understand. Laundry from the laundromat doesn’t smell like the previously articulated “Freshly Laundered Linen.” I did, in Austin, use a fabric softener, and that masked the “burnt cotton” scent of the dryers there. I’ve used variation on themes, from exotic oils to organic satchels, but the idea is that “freshly laundered linen,” to me, never smells like that scent bearing the same name.

Ironic, isn’t it?

The idea of a scent known as “Fresh Laundered Linen” made me think about the little frustrations, as in, without chemical or natural assistance, in trailer park laundromats, that was never the scent. Mostly clean, but not heavenly scented. No, what’s advertised isn’t like that in the real world. As we approach the big holiday, when one pretends what one’s not? Otherwise known as Valentine’s Day? Remember how those scents are never a real reflection of the so-called Real World.

The Leo:

I would never, “Never, ever, never-ever” accuse The Leo of exhibiting a lack of judgement. We’ve got a full a moon in Leo, or rather, on the Leo/Aquarius axis. Before and after that event? We still have the sun in Aquarius and Mercury is in Aquarius. Let’s examine that last one, Mercury in Aquarius, which, as your majestic Leo self knows, Aquarius is a semi-compatible air sign. Air feeds fire, or, if you’re not careful, “Air feeds ire.” One of the ways I serve The Leo is to help not feed that ire. Would that I could make it that the rest of the world would not feed The Leo’s ire.

I can’t change how other folks, obviously non-Leo types, I can’t change how they are going to show up, come along, or otherwise pull in front of your Leo self, and try to piss you off. The goal is magnanimously sweep a hand in front of you, and think, “Here, please, go ahead of me. Step in front of me. I can wait.” Then think, “I’m willing to put your needs ahead of my own, because, after all, that’s a beneficent ruler does.”

It’s how you choose to react to a situation where it feels like, it sure looks like, where someone is trying to get in your way, cut in line ahead of you, or otherwise try your patience. Good thing you’re The Leo as you know, that kind of irritation can really get under the skin of some people. Typically, not you. Not that you know, right?

The Leo: Sweep of the hand, all it takes, think, “Dismissed.”

Virgo:

“Unrequited love,” that should be the theme. Perhaps, one step further? “Unrequited love of Virgo?” Wait, that’s my theme, that’s not what this is about. The unrequited love, the object of the Virgo’s affection, the clear target that might, or may never, be? That’s the target. Unavailable, unobtainable, or, just out of cosmic sync?

I prefer, as an excuse, I much prefer, “Out of cosmic sync.” An older image, long since past prime, cycled up. Really old non-girlfriend. Rather, a non-girlfriend, Virgo, lots of Virgo, she would be about the same age as me, now, but anyway, it was never consummated. We were on different wave-lengths at the same times. She would dodge left, and I would veer right. A comic version of dodge ball, where we never connected properly. Not going to happen in this lifetime, either. Not without merit, no, not without merit, we just can’t seem to be in the same space, mentally, the same space, physically, and the same space, emotionally, not at the same time.

Some unrequited love is best left unrequited. Yeah, I know, big romance push, holiday and so forth, but think about it. The unrequited Virgo love can be carried forward.

Libra:

There are two schools of thought here. Rather divisive — only two ways to see this, but that’s how it works out. Either cooking is a science, marked with exact measurements, and carefully regulated temperatures, or, in my thinking? Cooking is an art, and it’s matter of inexact quantities, pinch, dash, shovel, and adjust as taste indicates. My various recipes for chili bear out my style, it’s a matter of what is handy at the time. My cooking is by guidelines, not following a recipe to the letter. My cooking is good, and enjoyed by some, but no one expects it my cooking to be great all the time. It’s about managing expectations, this week in Libra.

The other side of this equation, the exact measurement, the recipe that calls for tablespoons, and cups, and similar, exact quantities? That’s what this week requires. My method of sort of taking a gander at a recipe and then, just filling in with some improvisational cooking idea, that doesn’t work. My style of cooking by “feel” works well enough in many situations. This week’s energy in Libra? Precision. Precision is required. Exact measurements. My hopeful, often incorrect, “gut feeling?” While that’s very effective in many situations, this week? My style has terrible results. Don’t want to upset the Libra digestions with something that might not taste right.

Two schools. My “guidelines,” and a real recipe. Follow the recipe.

Scorpio:

Don’t engage, but then don’t avoid, either. This Full Moon, and the subsequent fallout from the lunar cycle? This full moon upsets the gentle nature of the Scorpio psyche. One year, been more than a decade now, but one year, I was living on the river in Austin, and one year, in February, I caught the same fish, time and again, over and over, maybe seven times in the two weeks culminating at Valentine’s Day. That would make it the first two weeks of February, ending VD. Same fish.

Honestly? She was bedding, a spawning pattern, early that year, and her nest was right by the dock in the old trailer park. Still, it was a record for me, and as soon as she dropped her eggs, I’m sure she was glad to be rid of me.

That fish always reminds me about not engaging. Here’s the Scorpio reminder: Don’t engage, but then, don’t avoid, either.

Engaging, in this example, is when the fish would stray from the bounds of the nest to strike at my bait. Don’t engage. However, when my bait looked like a critter that was about to eat the eggs or disturb the nest, then the fish would strike at that, too. That’s the second part, the “Don’t avoid, either.” Inside the territorial turf? Strike back. Outside Scorpio’s grounds and bounds? Don’t strike.

Sagittarius:

I think one of my cousins works for The Container Store, a corporate empire, now. One woman I dated did freelance for many years with The Container Store, and some of my bookshelves are sort of leftover from that. Not really, but a slim connection. Anyway, looking at the planets and our positions, what we really need is a way to get organized. The problem being, the challenge, just going The Container Store and buying the shelves, the organizers, the plastic dividers, and other items? Just purchasing the containers themselves don’t get our Sagittarius selves organized.

Before going out to buy the stuff to get organized? Before acquiring the “thing” that all make our life better? Get organized, first. Get the stuff you want to put into those plastic storage bins, get that stuff out and size, how many bins do you really need? Bigger, smaller, wait, can we just jettison this one item? No longer in use and no longer holds sentimental value?

Process. All about process, and that’s what’s happening here.

Capricorn:

From memory, and you can check my book of quotes, to get the exact line correct, but as I’m Sagittarius, I’m way too lazy to look this one up at the moment, but the quote?

“Habit is habit and not to be flung out the window, but eased down the stairs, a step at a time.”
—Mark Twain

Again, from my unreliable memory, it’s a quote from one of Twain’s characters. While the book I had in mind wasn’t required for the course, I enjoyed it as a it’s a short fiction done in Mark Twain’s character with bizarre backstory to it. However, none of this matters as what I was concentrating on, for Capricorn? It’s about starting to change a habit, probably a bad habit you want to break, but the sweet allure of the habit’s effects is more interesting than the deleterious side effects.

Until now.

This is the week to start thinking about breaking the habit’s old ways. I didn’t say we were stopping. Just quite stalling.

“Habit is habit and not to be flung out the window, but eased down the stairs, a step at a time.”
—Mark Twain