Why, this is very midsummer madness.

Olivia in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night III.iv.41

Moon conjunct Sun in Cancer, 2 degrees: June 23, 2017 at 9:30 PM

Horoscopes starting 6/22/2017

Cancer:

There’s always an “added kicker” to current conditions, and certainly that applies at this time. It has to do with a certain planet’s added influence, recombinant energies doubled then trebled, and that’s the experience for the week. While everyone feels it, this is strongest with the birthday folks, and even stronger if there’s a birthday in this next week. My one simple trick to maximize the week’s weirdness quotients and to make this a better time for all? My one suggestion is try three different things. The challenge comes from that suggestion, and how to interpret “Try three different things.” For one Cancer? “Try three different things” will mean three different food groups, perhaps an out-of-the-way BBQ joint previously untried. For another, it will be something far more adventurous, like walking up to total strangers and making introductions, cold–calling, as it were. With at least three different people, in three different settings. All depends. One buddy will try three different dating apps. Any one, or some combination? Any of the works.

But try at least three.

The Leo:

One “reader,” self-classified as a “psychic,” I worked alongside this person for years. Every town we’d hit? Her first comment, for the sake of the local clients? “I’m thinking about moving here, sort of like retiring here…” Me, being who I am, I always took that at face value, like it was a sincere statement. Maybe it was, but after hearing that along a circuit that swung through the then-oil rich West Texas, I realized it was the same line. It was just a line. Along the Gulf Coast or in portions of the Hill Country, even some place like El Paso, it almost made sense.

But it was just a line. I didn’t figure that one out for a while because I tend to take broad statements as truthful assertions. Because I tend to be brutally honest, I expect that same level of care and concern from everyone I interact with. Turns out, so it would seem, the world isn’t always that way. My bad. I had to hear that line from that other reader for several years before I realized it was just that, a line. For the majestic Leo, lets flip that line around. When I would land in the same locations, I would gush about how I loved the town. Because I did. Wasn’t really a place I could live, or that I would think about moving there, not seriously, so I never made such a statement. When I said, “I love this town,” be it Amarillo, to El Paso, Houston, even, I was serious. Not a lie.

The Leo tends to be truthful, not unlike me. The rest of the world? Does it take years to figure out when a line is just that, a line?

When I say, “I love this town!” I mean it. I didn’t say I was planning to move here to retire.

Virgo:

Cajun buddy, I asked about how long to boil crayfish. He’s an Austin person now, so he’s lost some of that Cajun, Louisiana backwater drawl. When he drops into that patter, though, I can barely keep up. It’s like he’s speaking another language. He looked at me, made a measurement in his mind’s eye, and then started to reply, in that accent. While I can’t capture the exact content of what he was saying, and I can’t be sure he wasn’t just messing with me for his own amusement, what I can be sure about, as he dropped back to normal vernacular, was that he uses a similar set of guidelines to what I do with chili: there are no rules. A good Virgo, though, a good Virgo requires an iron-clad set of rules. A recipe must be followed exactly. My buddy’s suggestion, a certain kind of Louisiana spice and a bucket for crawfish, then boil until done. Potatoes, beans, rice, sausage, boudain, oysters, animal parts, vegetables, all of that is subject to what’s on hand. “Boil until they done,” what he said. As a bit of kitchen trivia, there was some mention of the color of the crayfish’s shell, when it was done. Again, not anything I know about. However, as a guidelines go, those guys from Louisiana do know food. Watching my buddy shrug, “Boil until they done.” Simple. Each and every Virgo will cringe at that thought. Still, there’s a guideline that works well, this week’s weird energies, “Boil until they done.” Sounds so simple, doesn’t it?

You’ll know when they are done.

Libra:

One of the various trinkets I’ve picked up, from too many years on the road, it was a coffee mug, from a diner, but the slogan on the mug? “This may or may not have whiskey in it.” Humorous. Anecdotal. Factual, really, because it’s a binary proposition, and while technically, that place doesn’t have a liquor license, best guess is that the mug only contains coffee? Technically, it could contain whiskey. I’m not a drinking man, not these days, but for some folks, a stiff shot of something — I’ll stick with coffee — helps knock the sharp corners off the day–to–day edges. Another way to look at it? Pause long enough for a coffee–break. Take a few minutes from the road, the destination, pause long enough to absorb local color, or read the writing on the mug, and marvel that they still get away with such a label.

Scorpio:

Puddle jumper to another city. “You can pretend this is 1989, there is no WiFi on this plane, so talk someone or read a book.” Pre–flight announcement. To compound the Scorpio issue? There isn’t any cool seat–back catalog anymore, either. Another example of a sad casualty in our modern world. While my version of travel has been greatly constrained, I’ll occasionally still hop a flight someplace. The short, commercial travel used to be called “Puddle Jumpers” as that title properly evokes the sense of the flight itself. Up and down. Older aircraft, and commercial jets not destined for long flights are not equipped with all the modern inconveniences, like WiFi.

Working within the extant energies? New Moon in Cancer, etc? New start, mid–summer, for Scorpio. Fresh way to begin? That’s what this is about. Start by letting go of the established way. Like, “There’s no WiFi, what should we do?”

Talk to each other. New start. Old ways.

Sagittarius:

It’s been my experience that I need the wisdom gained from the experience exactly two minutes after my big mistake. I’m passing along this observation because, as fellow a Sagittarius, with the reflection from the objects in the heavens where they are? There’s an unnerving experience that proves my point about how our timing is off. Our rhythm isn’t quite right. We’re not at the right place at the correct time. Right place, wrong time? Sure, that works. Which circles back to where we were before, we need the wisdom learned from our mistake exactly two minutes before we make the mistake. Betting on intuition to move us forward? Betting on an astrologer to let you know that this is coming up? Poor bets. What is up and coming, though, is a sense that, after we do it, we get that momentary pause, “Wow, I don;’t think I should’ve done that, at least not yet…” And herein is the problem, undoing what what we just did.

Capricorn:

I know this is a weird time to bring this up, but the way it looks to me? There I was, hanging out at a neighbor’s swimming pool, some of the guys were drinking beer, I had a water, they were all talking about hunting trips next fall, and asked if I wanted to go. I like to fish, not so much hunt, not because I’m against shooting dinner, no, it’s just cold, wet, early, and the ends don’t justify the means, not to me. Too much effort for the gains, a nice freezer of venison. So I’m out for the hunting. But another idea did come up, later in the summer, some of my buddies were going to the firing range to “sight–in” their deer rifles. I have no moral obligation to taking a sporting weapon and putting holes in targets at 100 yards. Safe, with proper safe–guards in place, this is about plans for sometime in July, going to the firing range, me buying a box or two of shells, and just putting holes in paper targets. Nothing more. All we did was plan this activity. Nothing’s happened — yet. This all from hanging out in a buddy’s backyard, making idle chatter. One guy has a kid in high–school, so there’s noise about the track team next year. Nothing serious, parents bragging about kids. Suburban males doing our thing.

This is an example of the best use of this week’s weirdness: make plans for next month. Look at the fall season. When those guys are headed out for first bird season then deer hunting? I’ll be headed to the lake or the coast. Fewer “sportsmen” fishing, better fishing for me. Plan ahead.

Aquarius:

I’ve got one client, when she sits across the table from me, she mirrors my every move. I nod my head up and down? She nods her head in agreement. I shake my head left and right, in a negative? She shakes her head, same way. I get hopeful and start to wave my arms around, as I frequently do She gets excited, too. I’m not sure if this is conscious, subconscious, complimentary, or mocking. It’s like a twisted mirror of myself as I roll through the motions of a typical reading. I’ve been at this for some time, so I get into it because, well, that’s the way I am. I get excited, up, down, all over the emotional map — that’s me.

As we have a weird lunar cycle, and its effects on Aquarius?

Mirror our images. Mirror what we do. Provide us with visual feedback. Maybe not as extreme, or as agitated, or whatever, but mirror our actions.

It’s just a reflection, that’s all.

Pisces:

The way I will add this up? You — Pisces — have a 50/50 shot at being right. This is like the flip of a coin, and there’s straight up statistical probability that the coin will be heads or tails. Likewise, to me, it looks like there’s a 50/50 shot that you are 100% right. 50/50 shot also means you might be wrong. Total guess. Heads or tails, which will it be? Hard to call, as the way it adds up? There’s a one–to–one ration of “right versus wrong.” Correct or incorrect? Normally, the odds are in Pisces favor. Normally, this is weighted to let you win. Like Vegas, only the odds are — you’re like the “house” in Vegas. Weighted in your favor — usually.

With this kind of a set–up, what’s the best Pisces course of action? Double–down.

If there’s a 50/50 shot that you win, then do it twice. If the first fails, then the second has 50/50 shot of winning, and if that fails, then the odds, the numbers keep going in your favor, as you’re halving the numbers, each time. The numbers work out, eventually, one way or another, but as we start this next few days, for Pisces?

You got a 50/50 shot.

Aries:

I asked a server about lines of script on his arm, some of the words were partially concealed by a shirt sleeve. “It’s says, ‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life,’ but the meaning, it’s not like time to jump out of an airplane, just we create our future, as we go.” Glad to have that clarified. The extent of my version of excitement is a Texas freeway during rush hour, or one of my buddies in his boat, on rough waters. I’m really not planning on jumping out of any airplanes or other, extreme sports. Not my thing. I’m not an Aries, either. That server was. His ink, and this reminder, “This is the first day of the rest of your life,” the message for this week is simple: you create much of your Aries reality. Create carefully. Create mindfully. Create in a way that serves you best. There’s a bit of a rough patch — astrologically — and what you do with that? I’d suggest you can keep creating good results for yourself, as you go.

“Today is the first day of the rest of your life, not in the fatalist, ‘jump out of an airplane way,’ you know.”

Taurus:

I have a love/hate relationship with pens, pencils, and paper. Analog is messy, lacks precisions, and — bluntly? I have horrible handwriting. I can’t make out whatever I scratched down at the time. Love the idea, and for a sketch, like a stick–figure image, sure, great for that. However, I do so few “stick figure sketches,” seems like the pens and pencils — in copious quantities — are superfluous.

There is a need for precision in Taurus, at the moment. Precise.

Towards that end? I suggest digital — not analog — as a way to effectively convey the message. There’s a big message that needs to be conveyed. Again, the proper medium? Digital. Precise digital. Infinitely precise, digital, pixel-by–pixel detail, aligned, clarified, filtered, un–metered, whatever the individual situation demands? Precise.

One of my broad–stroke, sharpie–type markers won’t work. Not precise.

“God is in the details,” ask the Virgo about that.

Analog is not precise enough for this week’s Taurus. Precision. Absolute, digital–only precision.

Gemini:

Two, maybe three times now, I’ve looked at notebooks. Cool ones, too, with all–weather paper. Fine ones, as used by Hemingway and Faulkner, the Beats. Years ago, I found a swanky leather cover for a common style of blank notebook, and I put one in the cover. That cover was hand–tooled, heavy vegetarian–tanned, sustainably–harvested cow–hide. Still have it — tucked away in a closet someplace. There are stray comments, diagrams, mileage notes and not much else after page three. An ad cycled up for a different brand of notebooks, and I clicked through to look. My finger lingered on the “Buy Me Now” button. I paused. I thought about the notebook I had in the closet, the one with the leather cover, the other name–brand paper notebooks that are largely unused. The plans, the intentions, the large number of secret scribbling that go all the way to page three, then unceremoniously end. I take notes with a handy camera, these days, in a phone, and I take notes by typing in words and expressions that capture the essence of the moment I want to recall — in print — at a later time.

As far as the real notebooks?

Yeah, no.

Great idea, looks good on paper, but I know that it’s a waste of effort to buy. Some days, Gemini, some days you have to be reminded, like me, about what doesn’t work so we can stick to the stuff that does produce results.