So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.

Casca in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar I.iii.101-2

That’s just such an awesome piece of advice, on so many levels, to paraphrase, “Each of us has the keys to unlock that which binds us.” Casca’s version is a little prettier. From Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, which also has the famous line, “Beware of the ides of March.” This horoscope ends on the Ides of March, but as I’ve discovered, not everyone gets the reference. The short version? Fortuneteller warned Caesar, and it didn’t go well, “As the oracle predicted.”

Horoscopes starting 3.9.2017

Pisces:

Zip it, click it, lock it, stick in your pocket. Or, at one time, the expression was, “Bubble in your mouth.” Yes, I’m very well aware that it is your Pisces birthday. Yes, I know there’s good things about to happen, and yes, Venus is in its retrograde pattern, even now. Headed towards you. Full Moon, too. What it’s time to do? OK, as a Pisces, you’re going to have to work with me on this, but as a Pisces, I’m thinking about one Pisces, but this applies to all. Be gracious. Pretend you’re a Leo. Be nice, regal, matronly, patronly, act like a monarch and we are all your loyal subjects. But do so quietly. The parade wave? The queen’s wave, the way the royalty smiles and looks at the crowd, and then, that monarch doesn’t say a thing? Smile and acquiesce. Smile and wave. If you have pearly whites, smile in way that they show. Still, that doesn’t include the use of vocal organs — at all. Smile, wave, but no comment. Demure. Or, like I started with? Zip it, click it, lock it, stick it in your pocket. Works wonders. Smile and wave. Don’t say a thing. Happy birthday. Wait, are you giving me the silent treatment? Good, good.

Aries:

Simple Aries message? Consolidate your resources. To deviate from my usual propensity to quote Shakespeare? There’s an old adage, taken from a Mark Twain text. Seems to fit this week’s ideas and the correct way to address Aries energies, seems to fit perfectly.

“Put all your eggs in one basket, and then watch that basket!” From Pudd’nhead Wilson’s calendar. The exact quote, along with others from the same source, are in my book of quotes, Pink Cake, available online, for free, I think, cf., astrofish.net/books for details on that. However, the quote sums it up, and what I’d suggest for Aries, at this moment in time and space. Couple of items poking along in Pisces, and not quite to Aries yet, and then? The parts in Aries that are agile and agitating at the same time? Consider putting all the (metaphor) eggs in one basket, then watch that basket carefully. Consolidate resources at this time.

Taurus:

While I have a very visceral response to a big, throaty roar of a motor, like a vintage American V-8 with “glass packs,” or similar lack of muffler equivalency? While I have a rather positive emotional response, in part, I’m sure this is kindled by years and years of motor-head, gear-head exposure. The roar of the engine can serve as a way to get excited. Loud is better, is the old way of seeing this. These days, my manhood is not wrapped up in a vehicle. However, I still have a clear fascination with car culture, and the roar of the motor? Gets my blood flowing. As noted, it’s a very visceral reaction. As Mars (rhymes with cars) enters Taurus? Blip the throttle. Tap the accelerator pedal. Mars will make racket. It should be a blood-quickening, enjoyable and visceral reaction. The proper use of the Mars energy bequeathed upon Taurus? Blip the throttle. Make some noise. The caution? Not really a time to do burnouts, leave stripes, or, as one buddy used to do, he’d grab the front brake, and open up the throttle. Going nowhere, really fast. Billowing tire smoke, too. Fun? Sure. But pointless.

Gemini:

Me, I tend to be a bit backwards in my approach, at times. Most of the time. I stumble, fall, then figure out a direction. A snippet of conversation leads to a search that yields nothing on the surface, but underneath, resolutely and quite pointedly ignoring the proffered, and engineered, “If you like this, you might like this” advice? As a Gemini, you appreciate my efforts to plunge forward, sometimes bouncing off the walls to arrive at the correct destination. Do things backwards, then forwards, and would you look at that, over there? How cool is that? Some times we have to embrace the very Gemini nature of Gemini. Flaky. Short of attention span. Wandering mind. Wandering eyes. Some even have wandering hands. The effect of the Full Moon rattle the Gemini charts and causes consternation. From that consternation, though, there’s a chance that there’s redemption. Consider that other people will observe the Gemini behavior, this week, and worry that you’re going backwards. But going backwards is how we make our great discoveries. Just because it doesn’t make sense to an outside observer, as Gemini, are you going to worry about what other people — non-Gemini — think about you? That backwards to get forwards approach works well this next few days.

Cancer:

An ad caught my eye, “Portable Island Espresso.” Think it was like, on Craig’s List. Or something. I had to click, as I wanted to know what a “Portable Island Espresso” was. My mind ran amok with possibilities, an espresso maker that was both portable, and suited for making, perhaps iced espresso, a shaved ice version of the classic drink of hot water and fine grind coffee? Perfect for use on a bay boat, in the middle of the summer, no? Make an espresso for those early mornings fishing. I was getting all kinds of excited, about the possibilities. Turns out, a “Portable Island Espresso” was a kitchen island, that was small, and on wheels, and the color was dark, like a fine roast coffee type of hue. I was completely let down. Bummed to no end. My expectation at the advertising copy then the real unit, a picture of a cheesy cutting board on wheels, with a dark wood-like legs? Cutting board on roller skates? That’s what it was?

Cancer: My expectations were dashed. My imagination took me places maybe I ought not go, not alone, and not late at night. Between the Moon and the material floating freely, albeit some backwards, in Aries? Careful with expectations; although, realistically, when you read the phrase, “Portable Island Espresso,” what do you think it is?

The Leo:

There’s an added kick to this week’s Leo material. In part, we can blame the Full Moon and the Retrograde Venus, but what I’m really looking at, and looking out for The Leo? Mars. Mars slides on into Taurus, which, in case you’re not keeping up, is a Fixed Sign. And the first four degrees of Taurus sets an overtone that induces Leo anxiety. Leo internal pressure. Leo ire, and maybe, some Leo frustration. This unnamed, but quite palpable source of Leo frustration? That sets an undercurrent, and that underpinning is the source of the problem: tension from Mars. While not exactly “bad,” per se, this does overlay your chart for the next few weeks, and this week, it all sets the tone. Is this going to be good or bad? When good, it can be great, but when it’s a little bad, it can get quite ugly in a hurry. So the tiny trick is to understand the true source of the frustration. Mars is the culprit. Understand what the Mars-inspired lesson for The Leo is supposed to be. Shows up as a test or a lesson, and depends on the individual Leo, but reactions? Try to understand the issue before getting all righteously Leo angry.

Virgo:

An old girlfriend handed me a book that was about an arcane academic topic that I adore. First edition, hot off the presses, hadn’t been released for retail sales, yet. I grabbed that book and started reading. I was enthralled with the topic, amused by the examples, delighted with the works, and the only problem? In my mind, the basic premise was faulty. Everything else was excellent. Well-crafted, well-organized, thoughtful research, solid supporting evidence, great — except for a faulty first premise. Let this get in the way? Hardly! But I’m not a Virgo. I don’t have that Virgo razor-sharp mind. I lack that Virgo-like keen intellect. I have enjoyed that textbook immensely. I can forgive a faulty first premise, and thoroughly enjoy all the supporting details. While I learned very little about the stated hypothesis? I learned much along the road to that incorrect point-of-view. Book wasn’t published by an academic press, and now we all know why. Great stuff, just not really “academic” enough. Author’s problem, not mine. As this next few days unfold in Virgo-land? Are you going to let a faulty premise interfere with an otherwise excellent book? Or Virgo-oriented plot?

Libra:

I would like to think, when faced with a basic, binary question, like, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” I’d like to think I would take the easiest way available. My personal history, though, does not support that statement. I’ve tended, in the past, to find the most arduous, difficult, and time-consuming route to get a job done. It does get done, just not the quickest, most expedient way.

That’s me.

Libra: We’re faced, in the Libra world, with a basic question, “Easy way? Hard way?” Seems like a simple enough choices, correct? Seems like an obvious decision, right? However, backing up to my own, personal history of not always taking the easiest way out? Before you slide into next week, before you jump on what looks like the easiest, most expedient route? Maybe a little checking, perhaps a well-timed pause before you pick a direction.

Borrowed from my Latin Masters? “Choose your enemies carefully.”

Too cryptic? OK, then try, “Make sure to choose the easiest way to find a solution.”

Scorpio:

I never got comfortable with the idea of “Working on Retainer,” for a number of reasons. There tends to be a discrepancy between my accounting of hours, and the client’s version. Then, too, I have tendency to want to deliver full value for my services. Finally, this has to be about my comfort level. I know what I’m good at, and I am happy with my current arrangement. I have an easy to accommodate, “Pay as you go” plan.

The pattern and arrangement of the planets spells out a weird bonus. For me, it was a client who was happy with whatever it was I was doing, and I was rewarded with a large check. Cashier’s check, at that. Yes, I’ll take it. Like a tip, only, well, it was much larger. However, just to be upfront, I was being paid as we went along, not just at the end, and the big check was titled, “For services rendered,” and addressed to me. I expect a bonus, a tip, a substantial form of Scorpio recognition to arrive, in the next few days. Well-deserved. A reward, if you will. If it’s good enough, you can float a little of that over to me, say, 1%? Just for the sake of telling me I was right?

Like me, it was money I earned in some capacity, so there is that.

Sagittarius:

Over the years, I’ve had a hard lesson I’ve had to learn. It’s about who “gets” my work. Not everyone understands the point, direction, and just general gist of how these horoscopes work. My metaphors are based on my world experience what I’ve seen, and felt, in the years on this planet as a human. Not everyone thinks I’m human, but that’s not the point. From Bass Fishing to Bay Fishing, Shakespeare to Science Fiction, all of this makes up my body of work. What I’ve had to realize is that “Not everyone ‘gets’ it.”

For some Sagittarius, this can be a bitter pill to swallow, to thoroughly mangle metaphors. For some, this is tough news. For some, it’s probably obvious. “Not everyone gets it.” I got that. I learned that some years ago, but just as a reminder, facing off against this Full Moon on a Pisces/Virgo axis? “Not everyone ‘gets’ it.”

With our planet, Jupiter, opposed by the Aquarius planet — now in Aries — Uranus? “Not everyone ‘gets’ it.”

What might be best? Maybe, just a thought, maybe we stay true to our Sagittarius selves, and we don’t worry about those who “Just don’t ‘get’ it.”

“You live in your own world, don’t you, Kramer?”

Yes, yes I do. But everyone knows me in here.

Capricorn:

Repeatedly, I’ve suggested that my little Capricorn buddies all pick a single direction. Repeatedly. Flip back through the previous horoscopes, if you must be reminded.

Now that Mars is firmly in Taurus?

This bodes well for Capricorn and that single direction I’ve hammered you about. Pick one. Pick a single direction. If it were up to me? I’d go south. South from Austin is San Antonio. Good move. South from San Antonio is the Texas Gulf Coast, another good direction. South from the Gulf Coast is headed towards South Padre Island, again, another good move, another good direction. This works quite well for me.

For Capricorn? I’m less sure, but you gt the idea, correct? Pick a single direction. Go towards that single direction, that single goal, that single, simple destination you’ve picked out. Uranus and Jupiter, compounded with Pluto, they might try and dissuade your choice. Doesn’t matter. Stick with that single goal, for now. Unless, of course, you are not wedded to that goal, and the planets tend to knock you off course, but hey, that could be a new, single goal. A simple destination that was different from what we started with, and then, “Hey, would you look at that!”

Aquarius:

I don’t have any children. Missed that one, due to my circumstances. However, I have fishing buddies with kids, and I get to enjoy children vicariously. It’s even better because I have much fewer tantrums and dirty diapers to deal with. Easier, for me.

What I learned, this was a most recent experience, last Xmas? 2 year old really, really wanted to see “Santa.” All excited, besides himself, anything to see Santa. However, when I got the kid to the place where Santa was? That child hung on my neck with a frightened, almost shaking and quaking with fear, kind of a deal. That particular Santa seemed OK to me, had all the right parts in all the right places, might’ve had a little extra padding, I’m to sure, but that kid? Nothing doing. Didn’t want anything at all to do with that Santa. No sitting on the lap, no photo op, nothing.

Can’t force it, and while it was a weird thing, as I’d gone out of my way to grant a holiday wish, I also know enough about people to know if that kid didn’t want it to happen? Wasn’t going to happen.

What’s the Aquarius take-away from the event?

Santa, want to sit on his lap?

“No!”

Ok then. No problem. Not going to traumatize a kid that’s not even mine, over not wanting picture on some stranger’s lap.

Don’t force it.

“But that would be such a cute picture!”

“No.”

Don’t force it.

And if you do force it? No one wins.