- Nine changes of the wat’ry star hath been
The shepherd’s note since we have left our throne
Without a burden.
Polixenes in Shakespeare’s The Winter's Tale 1.2.1-3
Gemini starts, the Sun moves into the Tropical Zodiac Sign of Gemini on May 20, 2018, at 8:14 PM. See finerprint for details as the numbers are reliable but not always exact.
Horoscopes starting 5.17.2018
The remaining few, many happy solar returns! (Happy birthday, baby!) Speaking of which, I got in so much trouble the other day, petite Taurus female, I called her “baby.” That set off a chain reaction that almost became a major incident, an international incident, possibly an act of war. First off, I am way too old to care, and way too old even entertain notions of — whatever — with that one Taurus. Cute, attractive, you know, all the right parts in all the right places, plus that sensual swagger that only the birthday person can effect?
Roll with it. However, the problem, the challenge, my big mistake? “Hey baby, what’s up?” I hope I recall, not to call her baby in the future. It’s generic. Call some guys that, too. Not really gender specific, not that it matters, no, there’s a universality I tend to assign to certain terms. Apparently, not everyone subscribes to my individualized belief, and not everyone thinks I have zero evil intent in my hapless ways. As Mars bumps into Aquarius, like this and as Venus shifts signs, too, there’s a chance that, birthday wishes and all, there’s a good chance that you manage to enrage someone. Like me, with zero intent to do so, I wasn’t being sexist or elitist, but — apparently — my actions came off that way. With that in mind, recall Mr. Mars, and Miss Venus, understand that might be friction in some other person’s chart, and this is no reflection on your Taurus self.
I suspect this is a highly localized and rather personal example, but it fits with the birthdays, motion of the planets, and everything else. Plus, for a few select individuals, by the time you get around to reading this? Happy birthday! Love me my wacky Gemini friends. Love you guys bunches. The example is eating peanut butter from the jar. But this goes a step further than just eating peanut butter, it’s the pleasure of corrupting small minds. In my example, it was my fishing buddy’s kid. Kids, really, I was in charge of two of them at the time, just an emergency, he had to go out on an oil rig at the last minute, and he was supposed to be off, so I got two kids for a few hours. Hungry kids, and at their ages, I know better than to try and shepherd those two someplace. Doesn’t work, not for me, I don’t have the patience, dollars, or energy. However, I can contain them in the back yard, usually. But this time, they were hungry.
Grab a clean spoon from the sink, then grab a big jar — plastic these days — of peanut butter. Useful for healthy protein shakes and sandwiches for fishing, usually. And for the kids? Show them how to spoon out some peanut butter, then lick it off the spoon like it was peanut-butter flavored sucker. Big hit. Kept them busy, and out of the way, and therefore, not in my way, and easy to clean up, just let those kids roll in the backyard dirt, the sticky spots are easier to spot. I wouldn’t think much about this as a Gemini example, but there was serious consequence: the mom.
“You know what Kramer taught them? It was OK to eat right out of the jar! It is NOT OK!”
Next time I get a chance to babysit those kids, I bet their parents bring food, too.
That’s a Gemini win-win, all the way around. Winner, maybe next week, too.
Venus makes tracks, moving at an almost alarming clip, and she rolls right on into the Moon Children’s sign, Cancer. The crab. Yeah, that, too. Venus tends to do well in a watery, emotional sign like Cancer. As soon as I suggest “emotional,” there’s a portion of my readers who think I mean “weak.” Obviously, those poor people don’t know the determination and persuasive grit that a Cancer’s hard carapace can represent. Those big crab-claws latch onto a single action or idea, and it they won’t let go - “for nothing.”
That expression, “Won’t let go for nothing” is a logical fallacy, way I see it, but still, if you hear it in person, you know that’s an example I might use.
There is an old ghost of an idea, a hint of something leftover from the distant, or not too distant past, and — like your archetype, the crab — you’ve been gripping that one idea, that one person, perhaps it is a hurt, and instead of holding on to it, for dear life? Let it go. Easy enough for me to suggest. Here’s the trick with the weird planets, it’s easier to let that go, even now, and make nice, with that Venus influence, as she starts to make tracks. I don’t know that you can compeltely let go, not just yet, but taking steps towards letting go, maybe just loosening your crab-claw grip on the old pain? Maybe that’s the first step in letting go of the old ghost.
This is a long-term pattern, here. My wonderful, Leo friends? Long-term pattern, here, for The Leo. It’s about how we relate to other people. There will be a huge number of astrologers writing, “This is good for romance,” or “this is bad for romance” or whatever. It is neither good nor bad. However, this is long term — think before you shout, gripe, complain, or otherwise pitch someone (maybe something, but I’m thinking it’s a person) to the curb, hopefully, to be hauled off like yesterday’s refuse. Trash.
Taken out like the trash.
I’ll agree that it is an effective way to think — and deal — with some people. However, as I allude to, when we started, this is about longer-term patterns than just this week. This month, even, much longer term patterns here. While I’ll agree that there is a person or situation that needs to be hauled away, maybe now isn’t the best time to summarily just toss that person out. There is hope. Maybe use a classical Scorpio move, just ghost the person for this week? Doing so is far more effective, and there is no long-term, well, no negative long-term ramifications for The Leo.
The Leo: Remember? What’s worse than not being right? Having to go back and say you’re sorry, you were wrong. Ghost is better action than throwing away like yesterday’s trash, just for now.
I am so not a fan of inline, online video. There was a piece in a news feed, and I was interested in the topical material, but after sitting through about three minutes of scratchy, cell-phone video, I clicked off. Perhaps I am too (adult) attention-deficit disordered. Perhaps the Sun is in Gemini. Perhaps Mars, in Aquarius, an air sign, perhaps that figures into this, as well. I can’t answer. Might be because I am so wedded to the written, textual word, growing up on newspapers and magazines, and me, being an early adopter of “Nothing but ’net,” maybe that is part of it, as well. But the online video was too long. I wanted the material I was searching for, the crux of the matter, I wanted it in three minutes — or less.
I could track what was being said, but I quickly lost interest as I was thinking about what to say about Virgo; which, if you’re tracking all of this so far, you understand that you’ve got the same attention span that I — apparently — have. Three minutes is too long. Need this done in commercial break length, or better yet, in a commercial break length that is being fast forwarded through on a DVR. So, as the Moon passes through Virgo, which it will, recall that this is about a hurried version of the spot. You want a concise version, shortened, just the bullet points, maybe, like watching the DVR as it fast-forwards through commercials.
There is a myriad of details that are all too easy to let your Libra self get all caught in. Silly reminders, or reminder to set a reminder, or telling a mate to remind you to set a reminder so that you don’t forget, and at that point, it’s reductive and silly, at same time, but you have to recall that you had that thing you wanted to be reminded about.
Recall what I’m referring to?
See how this gets overly complicated in no time? The biggest challenge I faced under a similar planetary alignment, what happened to me was I got immune to the reminders that were beeping and buzzing, me, just blindly hitting the buttons to make them all go away, the silly alarm to remind us to turn off the reminders.
As observed before, this gets spun up into a vicious circle that is nothing but paper reminders, or computer reminders, or personal alarms, or whatever beeps, buzzes, or flashes to get your Libra attention to remind you to do whatever that was.
If only there was a way to simplify all the alerts, the buzzers, flashers, alarms, and reminders to have a reminder set for whatever it was, and see how this gets circular and reductive in a hurry?
Libra: maybe just stop or turn them all off. You might forget something, but was it that important, if you forgot?
I tend to associate that strong, good Scorpio energy with a single-mindedness of purpose. Focus on one thing, one task, one goal, really, really well. There is almost an obsessive energy that goes with this ability to focus. Not scattered, not disingenuous, not off-center. None of that. Focused, directed, obsessive, to an outsider, or someone who is making a judgement without understanding that Scorpio energy. Yeah, looks obsessive, almost compulsive, that Scorpio single-mindedness of purpose.
With the Moon filling out, and the Sun in Gemini? And Mars where he is? We need to scatter our Scorpio directions. Direct that focus all over the place. Don’t concentrate on just one. Cast a wider net. In computer search terms? Remove the limits of the search. Pick a wildcard search term, and then? Don’t limit that wildcard search. Instead of being obsessive about trying to get to just one place? Spread that energy thinner and thinner. Back to the search term, it’s as if I were looking up myself, I would use the exact phrase, “Kramer Wetzel” with the quote marks. However, this week? For Scorpio? Ditch the limiting phrase, those quote mark, or, the “Kramer+Wetzel” that some search motors like. Broaden the Scorpio horizons by using fewer limiting phrases. Widen, really, not broaden, but widen up and be a little less obsessive about those directions, so you can stumble into adjunct answers to your pressing — and important — Scorpio questions.
I got to describe the person, set the scene, he was a younger, some would say “hipster” looking person. Beard, nascent ponytail, plaid shirt, work pants that probably didn’t see any real labor, and a pair of flip-flops. He was talking on a phone, and a ball rolled over close to him. He deftly tapped the ball back into play, and didn’t miss a beat on the phone call. A few minutes later, another ball was knocked over by him, and he — expertly — rolled it backwards with his sole, then tapped it up and juggled the ball with his foot before delivering — on a soccer field — what would be a goal.
As a Sagittarius myself, I’m prone to succumbing to stereotypes and attempting to fit people into neat little boxes. At first, the guy was a “hipster” in my mind. Then, he was a “redneck,” although, I kind of doubt that as it didn’t look like he had done hard labor in the clothes, although, that’s what the attire was designed for. Finally, though, with the soccer ball move, I was given pause. None of my pre-ordained elements and judgements fit together in a single passage that made sense to me. I could get just about any two, but not all three, in the same package. It was the soccer moves that stumped me. Someone who knows his way around a soccer ball like most of my buddies know football (pigskin football). After rolling it around in what I’m pleased to call my brain, I arrived at a logical conclusion: San Antonio. With its heady cross-cultural mash-up, this town is a little stranger than other places, and soccer, owing to the latin influence, is as popular as football, at least to some. Working hypothesis, as I’ll never know the real answer. This week’s Sagittarius energies take some effort, and some thought, but there is a logical conclusion; although, to some it does look like the world’s gone mad. Give it some thought, and there will be an easy to understand and grasp, Sagittarius hypothesis by the end of the week. I sure hope so.
It’s always about the right tool for the job. Always about grabbing the right piece of hardware to get the task accomplished. Capricorns — my Capricorns — pride themselves on a job well-done. To get the job done well? Right tool. Correct implement. I have a Leatherman (tm), old-school tool. Great for use as pliers, provided it isn’t too much, good as a quick bevel, and partially useful as a diagonal wire-cuter, but none of these tasks are that can be repeated, or used again and again. That particular tool, it’s a legacy version, and it was made with exceptional quality tool steel. However, it is an example of the wrong tool for the job, the Capricorn job, at hand. Right tool for the task. Correct implement for what we’re doing, at this moment.
In computer terms, then, buddy of mine does graphic arts. When he fires up a workstation, he first looks at the drawing and image manipulation software. When I open up a computer — or almost any device — I look at the word-processing set-up. I’m a writer, first. What I look for. Send me a file, my first try is to open it in a word processor, whether there are images or not.
This show bias, but this is really about using the correct tool to get the job done. There is a task, a stated Capricorn goal, and to arrive at that goal quickest, easiest, in the most prudent manner? Use the right tool.
Humorous, to me, I was thinking about the current crop of mobile phones, a ubiquitous part of “modern” life. I had a special, “Foldable phone. Once.” For all their strengths, those phones don’t take to being folded in half, not the ones I’ve used. While some models seem durable enough, I still recall having an early laptop worked on, explaining it “kind of” fell out of the overhead bin on a commercial flight in West Texas. Apparently, there was a way to tell if the laptop had been dropped, or rather, if the laptop had come to a quick halt. The foldable phone made me think about that, with most modern conveniences, some of which are horribly inconvenient, have little markers inside. Pop it open and there is evidence of “water damage,” or being dropped from the overhead bin, or, what got me on this tangent for Aquarius, the foldable phone. “It’s foldable, all right, once.”
Mars inspires action — Mars is in Aquarius, even now. However, Mars inspires some actions that might not be best, like making a regular phone into a foldable phone. A little too active?
“Foldable phone. Once.”
Word for the day? “Meretricious.” More like a word for the week. It’s about something that looks cool and flashy and yet, turns out, it is all flash and little substantial value. Looks good, does nothing. “Oh, like your ‘fine art’ that you claim?” No, smart-ass, not like my weird, derivative art, no, not like that. This is more along the lines of, like, a souvenir. A reminder, but as it turns out, well, ever get one of those collectible (item) that is supposed to perform a function, when, in reality, it was cheaply made, and might not really perform well as an (item)?
Look the word up yourself. Might help. Might notice that some other astrology writers would draw certain conclusions about Pisces — quite out of context — with respects to an archaic definition of that term. The word. So what’s with a flashy word that looks meaningful but, as it turns out, holds little value? There is a simile that runs through the Pisces’s week, along those lines, “Looks good, does little work.” That expression, “Looks good, does little work,” tends to be interpreted as a certain ex (ex-husband, usually, but ex-wife, for some, and ex-boyfriend/girlfriend, and apply as need be). But that ex isn’t what this is really about. Or that flashy souvenir, no, this is about the word “meretricious,” and how that can be dropped into every day chatter. Makes the Pisces look good, big, flashy words like that. Messes with their heads. All about being on top of situation that belies normal definitions.
If you are tea drinker, one of those snobby, purist, Puritan-type with a straightened-out pinky finger when fondling a tea cup? Yes, stop reading now. I have, and I will enjoy proper tea in a fine-dining setting, think: High Tea. Yes, I know how it is to be made, properly served, boiling water, just off a roiling boil, loose tea, strainer, tea pot warmed, yes, I know all that stuff. Lately, and don’t say I didn’t warn you, but lately, I’ve been drinking a certain herbal tea in the afternoon. Tea bags are readily available, and since the tea has such a strong flavor for that first cup? I’ll reuse that tea bag, two, three times maybe. It’s not because I’m cheap, although, I am cheap. And it’s not because of any psychological problem relating to birth order or genetics, no, it’s because that first cup is almost too strong, the flavor overpowers a bit. The second cup — just add hot water — is near perfect in balance to flavor, aroma, steam coming off the tepid water, the blend of herbs and spices, and — it just works best. These special, herbal-tea tea-bags? I get at least three cups of tea. The first is too strong. The second is near perfect and even the third is good, if not as great as the first two. Fourth or fifth? By number five, that tea-bag is worn out. Nothing left. While this kind of multiple use goes fervently against what most purist would require, my dear Aries, are you purist by design, as dictated by others? Or do you decide based on what it tastes like, to your very Aries self?