Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go.
King Claudius in Shakespeare’s Hamlet 3.1.158

Horoscopes starting 7.6.2017

Cancer:

Some days, I feel badly for my fishing buddies. In this one example, it was kind of a rough day on the water. The bay was churned up from a recent weather front, and while that made for cool conditions, a stiff but errant and unpredictable breeze added some chop to the waters. Stiff north wind, and we were working in a spot that faced into that north wind. Heavy weights and lots of live bait? Worked well enough for me, as I’m sure there are some pictures on the web someplace. We anchored, facing a small creek, or creek–like feature that was draining into the bay with the outgoing tide. A school of Reds was feeding off whatever was draining into the bay, at that spot. I’d sail a piece of bait up there, watch the current pull the line a bit, and then, “Wham!” Fish on! My buddy in the back of the boat was catching nothing. I swapped positions, after my third keeper, hoping to help his luck. No luck. Exact same bait. Exact same tackle set–up. Exact same position. Nothing. He was even landing his bait in the very place where I was catching fish after fish.

Luck is funny like that. This birthday week in Cancer? I wonder if you are lucky like me, or ill–fated like my buddy. I’m thinking, birthdays and all? Luck is on your side. Like me.

The Leo:

July 10, 5:37 AM, more or less, as some of these are approximate times, but that’s about the time when the Moon opposes Mercury. Mercury, in Leo, and the Moon, in Aquarius. There are other influences, as well, but that one seemed most significant. “This is an opposition, so it’s bad, right?”

No.

“Then why did you bring this up?”

This is a weird transition, and that single astrological oddity is both a harbinger and a symbol of this week and what’s to come. Happens half–dozen or more times in year, but this one triggers a weird, cascading effect in Leo.

“Did I tell you?” Yes.
“Did I tell you?” Yes.
“Did I tell you?”

Yes, Leo, you told me. Three times, now. I think I got the message.

Which, as this unfolds, Mercury opposite from Moon? That person, who’s been told three times? Really is going to wish that there was fourth reminder, as that person forgets, despite being warned three times.

Leo: Warn us as often as you think necessary.

Virgo:

There’s a weird little set of tricks played by the planets, and their influences. Some years ago, when I was living — and shopping — downtown? I came across a “deal.” It was $1.50 for one, or 3 for $5.00. Deal, right? Better get three?

Because that’s a deal, right?

One can never get in trouble underestimating the American public. Nor can one ever get in trouble expecting people to snap a deal like that. As a Virgo, though, as this week, the after 4th crap rolls out? After we’re done with everything? I have two questions:

1. Is it really a deal? One for three dollars or 3 for ten dollars? Is that really a price reduction?
2. Do you need three? Is one enough?

Goes a couple of ways and there’s that dualistic energy, even after the Full Moon, so it kind of matters, but the two questions are, “Is it really a deal?” And, of course, “Do I really need three when one is all I wanted in the first place?”

Libra:

It takes a lot of hard work and effort to be an overnight sensation. There are years spent on tour, years spent living out of suitcases and backpacks, unsure of the next meal, and there are days, waking up in cheap motel rooms, wondering what town it is. I know something of this, having spent a portion of my early career in just such a pursuit. The deal is, it takes a lot of hard work to get to where we are, with whatever degree of ease, comfort and success we enjoy.

I spent years driving and commuting — almost — across the West Texas sands, the land I love, appreciate, enjoy? So it was work, hard work, but I loved it. It was places I wanted to be. I’m no overnight sensation, but there has been a degree, a modicum of success. The success is built upon previous efforts, each one moving closer towards a kind of success. So the deal is, there is no magic elixir that makes Libra an overnight sensation. Takes work, planning, and consistent steps towards obtaining that goal. In the next week, seems to be someone is trying to block the steps towards that goal (Mar/Sun in Cancer). Step around, step through, or work towards that goal in other areas. No reason to fight with an obstacle that doesn’t achieve any degree of success and leaves your Libra self frustrated.

Scorpio:

Two heavy hitters, astrologically, are on either side at the moment. Saturn — in Sagittarius and Jupiter — in Libra. Clowns to the left, jokers to the right? Only, which one is which? Jupiter, that could be the clown, right? Only, in Libra, those are the jokers, so that should be the joker? Sagittarius, always a clown, but with Saturn that might make it a joker? So is Libra the clown or the joker, now?

While we work with this internal conundrum about what planet represents which energy, realize that there’s a “Stuck in the middle,” — with you — energy present. Can’t quite escape it, and can’t quite get with it.

You are stuck in the middle, and there’s no immediate influence that weights this one way or another. Clowns? Jokers? Doesn’t much matter, one Scorpio comes along and screams at me, “This is serious!”

I am being serious. Instead of rendering a decision — right now! Like you want? Realize that you’re stuck in the middle and there are no easy ways out. Two steps, work well: 1. Realize you got clowns and jokers all around you, and 2. understand that the only way out is going to be through, either the clowns or the jokers.

Sagittarius:

I was in the grocery store, and, I could tell, one glance, the woman, a mom, she’s Sagittarius. I know my signs. She was a mom, or mom–like figure, herding two younger females, little girls. The youngest child grabbed something, went to put it in the basket. The Sagittarius mom snatched it and ceremoniously replaced the item on the shelf, “No. Why? Because I said so, and you don’t need any other reason.” End of discussion. End of observations. The product probably has enough refined sugar to fuel a small country for a few days, and might really be in the best interested to all, kids and parents, for the package to remain on the shelf. What made me chuckle, “Because I said so.” We have become our parents. That’s a scary proposition. I wasn’t the heartbroken child, who, I don’t know, I didn’t inquire, might’ve been spoiled, but the mom’s answer, “Because I said so,” was greatly amusing.

I’ve dated Sagittarius females and I’ve dated moms. I like them both, any combination of that, mom, Sagittarius, female. One or any combination, thereof. What tickled me the most, though, “Why? Because I said so.”

It is really worth not getting worked up in the next few days?

“Why? Because I said so,” that’s why.

Capricorn:

Strange times, indeed. Strange times. The planets, or really, just merely the Sun itself, this causes a certain element of consternation. The planet placements remind me of a familiar scene: the wedding shoot. When I lived in downtown San Antonio, one of my frequent walks included a picturesque bridge over the San Antonio River, and that bridge featured in a number of wedding images for various couples. On a sunny summer day, there would be a bride, maybe some bridesmaids, and perhaps a groom, all sweltering and posing, then swigging water and dabbing off sweat, only to pose again. Good pictures, I’m sure. But now that the holiday is over, and times being what they are? One time, the couple was swigging out of a champagne bottle, but sweating profusely in near hundred degree heat, and mixing alcohol on top? Not always a good combination. While it’s a great place to take a picture? Posing in the heat, in all that formal wear, all that heavy attire, does it make sense? For some of my buddies, yeah, something stronger than lemonade is required. If it were me? I’d stick to water.

But that’s me.

Aquarius:

Look at the Leo horoscope, then come back.

Done? Good.

New topic for Aquarius: ever notice how sexy gray hair can be? Women with long, flowing locks of gray, or men, with gray at the temples, and like me, with flecks of gray strands sprouting elsewhere.

This is about what was “sexy” when we were younger, and what is now considered “sexy” as we age — gracefully age, right?

For me — personally — I can’t say for everyone, but for me? That gray hair can be quite sexy, fetching, and attractive. I’ve just categorized a change, a shift in my perceptions, and I’ve laid this open for all to see. That gentle change, that different direction, and that perception about the color of one’s hair. The flip side of this equation, a number of women tell me how sexy “bald” is, these days.

Perceptions change, and Mercury/Moon are going to make this apparent. Embrace the gentle change. Or shift, just be willing to shift perceptions.

Pisces:

A client brought her “tween” to me for a reading. Kid was between 10 and 14 years old. That’s a “tween,” right? I hope so. Not old enough to be an autonomous teenager, not old enough to drive, but too old to play with dolls, and not sure whether members of the opposite sex were still “yucky” — or interesting.

I talked to the kid the exact same way I talk to any other client, perhaps a little light editing on the sex stuff (none), but otherwise, just like a real person. No condescending tones, no patronizing, no “You’re just a kid” attitude, either.

Because I record my readings, and I made sure the mom had access to a copy of the reading, what I found out, the next time I saw the mom? I was praised, applauded, and the kid liked me even more, as I was now “cool.”

The trick, my trick? I treated that kid just like an adult. Just like a fully functional person. There’s a portion of lizard brain that will loudly exclaim, “Children don’t turn human until age 21!” Other than that? Take a Pisces cue from how I handled this situation: treat the kid as I would treat any other person.

Might not be a buddy’s kid, but could be any number of situations that involve children, or child–like personalties. Talk to them the way I talked to the kid, just like an adult. Or like an adult–age person. Treat them like a people — watch for the results. In my example? Everyone was happier.

Aries:

”Pulp Fiction” used to refer to a type of printed material. “The Pulps” where magazines printed on paper that usually had large pieces of wood chip floating in the mix, hence the term, “Pulp.” That kind of magazine paper was cheap to produce but doesn’t have a long–lasting quality due to a fairly high acidic content. Pulp magazines used to be the cheapest form entertainment available in a semi-literate society. The magazines gave birth to the cheap paperback book, again, some of the paper had actual pieces of wood floating in the paper’s stock. As a generic literary term, “Pulp Fiction” refers to sensational, perhaps low–quality entertainment that’s all action against a lurid background. With the advent of the digital age of literature, I tend to think of 99-cent e-books as “Pulps.”

From the 99–cent digital pulps, though, I’ve encountered a few gems. Good stuff, takes some digging, and just the recommendation algorithms alone don’t serve my somewhat weird tastes. Still, with some patient excavation online? It’s possible to find a few that are worthy the 99–cent price. With both Mars and the Sun in Cancer, and Jupiter opposite Aries in Libra? Takes some patient online excavation in order to find true suggest of Aries gold. Can happen, too, but you have to page through a few a hundred titles — or whatever — to find stuff that’s really, really good.

Digital “pulps,” an Aries cure to the summer blues, as exacerbated by Mars, the Sun, and even Jupiter.

Taurus:

Write it in Haiku. That simple. Instead of a long, convoluted message with fishing, and Shakespeare, and who knows what else I’ll put into the Taurus missive?

Just “Write it in Haiku.”

It’s a simple enough charge, an easy way to learn how to communicate the material that Taurus — this week — the material that Taurus wants to communicate? Write it in Haiku. Super simple Japanese poetry form. One line — five syllables. Next line — seven syllables. Last line, or third line? Five syllables again. Simple form. Concise. Supposed to include a “Flip,” or a “turn,” at the end. Strange form and even weirder when translated to English. But the idea is sound, and there’s plenty of Western Astrological evidence to support the idea that some kind of weird, mystical Oriental poetry form is best. For communication, for the next — for the next week? Just communicate in Haiku.

Just “write it in Haiku.”

Gemini:

Some of my metaphysical training involves letting go of possessions. Stuff. Things. Personal material possessions that I use to define me. I have, I’ll admit a few items that I am intrinsically linked to, some of these are expensive items, but the dollar value has almost no bearing on my emotional content because the items are imbued with tremendous sentimental value. Things that means something because of the experiences and histories tied to those items. Books are a good example, textbooks that I no longer use, not really, but that have notes, or other sentimental value to me.

Soon as the July 4th celebration, parties, fireworks and crap is over? Consider looking at some of those things — as a Gemini — that you hold onto and what really has value, and what can be set free.

One Gemini buddy I’m think of, maybe we can grab some leftover firecrackers, head out of town and blow some junk up, I mean, you know, metaphorically. Possessions that no longer serve us? Might want to unload them one way, or another.