Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
- Antonio in Shakespeare's The Tempest (II.i.21)
Horoscopes starting 6.7.2018
Gemini? Simple expression. “Fix it — or get it fixed.” Simple expression to meet the birthday energy, “Fix it.” That’s simple enough, a problem is there, in front of your birthday selves, so let’s fix it! Sure. That works for some. This is a complicated problem and I might not be able to fix it myself. Cool, I get that, too. Let’s make some calls, see if we can get some help on this. Back to the original command, “Fix it — or get it fixed.” Either one works. Either route is perfectly acceptable. The goal is a solution to the problem. The problem is that — as a Gemini — you might lack all the adequate tools to finish the task. That’s where the second half of the short statement come into play. “Fix it — or get it fixed.” Either way works, and remember, the goal is to get this thing working again, whatever means necessary — it is birthday time.
Gemini: Fix it — or get it fixed.
Kale chocolate chip cookies. Wrong. Just wrong. Don’t ask where I was, as it sounds a lot like an Austin-thang, but I can’t be sure. Might’ve been a website of some sort. But the idea of Kale Chocolate Chip cookies is just repulsive. Get into the details about this sort of mess? Those aren’t even real chocolate chips, they were all-natural, free-range, ergonomically-correct chocolate-like-chips. It’s a travesty.
Saturn and Pluto are opposite from Cancer. I’ve had “Kale Chocolate Chip” cookies twice. One time, I was hungry, there was coffee, and it was a relaxed setting, and I enjoyed the munchies. Not exactly a real chocolate chip cookie, but a reasonable facsimile thereof. Interesting flavor, but not really a substitute, just an enjoyable — presumably super-food healthy — munchie. Little “dirt” flavored, owing to the concentration of kale, I’ll suppose.
As we look at the stars for Cancer? Think about the chocolate chip cookie that was eight chocolate chip, not anything recognized as “cookie.” If it was packaged and sold to me as “Healthy snacks with a chocolate chip like consistency, only made with super-food,” I’d be more amenable. I want Cancer to be satisfied and amenable. Make sure we are calling a thing by its right name.
There is always an elegant solution, and The Leo loves elegance. The little challenge, is that Venus, just as she enters the tropical zodiac sign of Leo? That planet “squares” Uranus at a degree or so of Taurus. Where the challenge, problem, and solution are all wrapped up in one, easy to digest, container. Dig. Dig around. This is more than an answer to The Leo’s question, but this going to take some hard work. Good thing you’re not allergic to hard work. I am, but I’m The Leo.
There is a shortcut, an easy way to do this, a simple solution, all wrapped up in one. Getting to that simple solution means sifting through mountains of search results to find the correct answer. Simple. Easy. Elegant. Can be applied across a broad spectrum of possible areas as an excellent solution. You (will be) brilliant.
The hard part is sorting through the answers, sifting through mounds and mounds of virtual data, disclaimers, content advertising, and spurious (useless) research results. Sometimes, all I have to do craft the right arrangement of words in a search box, like “Solution, elegant, Leo” to get the right answer. Doesn’t come quickly or easily, but dive in there and do the work — it’s worth it.
What I saw was an ad, for “A do it yourself workbench (kit),” which was, basically, 4 plastic legs and a handful of screws. Provide your own lumber. Provide your own tools. The legs themselves were nothing more than rather flimsy-looking, I’m guessing inexpensive plastic-molded, poorly-measured pieces. Four legs, and a handful of screws, with directions, bring your own wood.
What amazed me was the price, compared with what was apparently in the kit itself. Then, it really makes me wonder, do people buy something like this? The kits with some cheesy plastic legs then instructions to go and acquire the lumber for the surface, back, shelves, all the parts? With instructions that were probably written in Mandarin, then translated to Tagalog, then French, and finally, English. To suggest that something might be lost in the translation? There is that as a problem, as well.
I was aghast at the idea once I looked at the kit a little deeper, delving past the surface of the glossy finish ad? Screws and a few angle irons, can use 2x4 or 4x4, or perhaps larger, for all the parts, and the legs didn’t look like they would inspire confidence.
Some people need instructions, though, and some people need it spelled out, clearly, step by step, to get from here to there. Before you buy that “Do it yourself” workbench, or whatever is advertised? Look a little deeper. How much of this can you do on your own, bereft of instructions? I can work myself out of job that way, but the flipping it over? The Virgo wins.
It was an ad for something, with the material used called, “Vegan Leather.” That is some kind of weird, faux leather? Actually, it’s a tricky name, a slight misdirection, as a name for plastic. I have a handful of people who would be interested in “Vegan Leather,” and one of them is a Libra, while another has a lot of Libra in the natal chart.
“Plastic, yuck, no way, not cool, but Vegan Leather, now that sounds cool, sign me up!”
It’s about how this gets pitched. Part of what this is about. Part of what this about, though, is not falling for a fancy name when a more direct and honest answer is better. This can play out two ways, either your Libra self is pitching “Vegan Leather” as an option, or you’re buying, and the pitch is “Vegan Leather.” Pause long enough, you’ll realize that it means plastic. While certainly useful in its own right, plastic is merely plastic, not really — well, yes, it really is, but seriously, “Vegan Leather?” Does that really work?
Easiest way to avoid spreading germs? Don’t lick anything you don’t know where it’s been. At least one Scorpio will snicker loudly at that thought. Still, with Mars, where it is? He’s making a strong kind of energy for Scorpio, feel that? Sure you do. Which is all about a certain willingness to try something you’ve never tried before. However, this kind of energy, from — mainly — Mars is not exactly steady, and sometimes, not exactly safe. So, to prevent spreading germs — or other infections your Scorpio self might not want? Don’t lick anything you don’t know where it’s been. Simple set of instructions for an incredibly complex energy pattern to this week’s Scorpio stuff.
Scorpio: Don’t spread germs. Easiest way to avoid spreading germs? Don’t lick anything you don’t know where it’s been.
I extol the virtues of meditation, later in this horoscope, for Aquarius as a way to effectively deal with their Mars energy — Mars is currently cooking in Aquarius. That also puts Mars in the Sagittarius Solar Third House, and let’s think, communications.
There’s a very palpable Sagittarius ability to communicate with telepathy, this next few days. Mind over matter! Mystical Arts, unleashed!
Or, we Sagittarius types think/feel like can communicate in a non-verbal, non-present manner. Good trick if one can get it to work. I, personally, have witnessed several illusionist work that kind of magic, but it was merely smoke and mirrors, not really mind-reading, or telekinesis, or other forms of mystical arts. Mere sleight of hand. Subtle misdirection and some social triggers, and everyone sees what they want to see, not what really happened. At least one of the tricks, I never did figure it out, but I know, it was a trick.
As this week unfolds and folds into next week, we have to be careful with our thoughts, our non-verbal communications, and what we think we are communicating — as compared to what we are really saying.
“I thought that was implied, the meaning…”
Yes, might work with me, but I can’t say it would work with anyone else, so we have to, goes against what we think, but we have to spell it out.
“S-P-E-L-L I-T O-U-T.”
There’s a simple, “Back to basics” approach I would heartily encourage for Capricorn. Simply put, let’s get back to the basics. What is it supposed to do? What are you doing? Are you doing what you’re supposed to do?
“Cut the crap, Capricorn.”
Pare away at the non-essential parts of this equation. The items you’ve been wrestling with?
“Cut the crap, Capricorn.”
Get back to basics. Pretty simple idea, but between basic and the extended Platinum version? With its assortment of useless add-ons and accessories?
“Cut the crap, Capricorn.”
Get back to basics. What you need is the stripped down version, the bare bones, the basic minimum. Lean, mean, trim.
A number of great people credit their relative success to a meditation practice. Scientific studies prove that meditation improves response time, and facilitates better mental health.
Mars is cooking Aquarius, and I can’t do anything to stop its frantic, frenetic energy that seems to agitate your Aquarius psyche. What I can do is point to a few clips that might help. The tradition of meditation is usually a minimum of 20 minutes.
Remember Mars? Currently in Aquarius?
There is a single, or maybe two, files linked from this horoscope, part of my public access material — a specific audio meditation file that is nine (9) minutes long. While the minimum for normal times is usually 20 minutes, and half of that is ten minutes, with Mars, in Aquarius? Cutting that down to a very manageable 9 minute loop might help.
Science backs this; Kramer approves, Aquarius tools for the times.
9 Minutes — to a better you.
Aquarius: Blame Mars.
The process is called CRUD: Crud = Create — Read — Update — Delete.
From my working notes, I’ll take it this isn’t a new methodology for dealing that constant data flow. There are four steps involved, 1. Create. Start the action, dictate the memo, fire off that first e-mail, jot down a note. 2. Read. Go through the missive, the step you just started and look at the material. 3. Update. Should be obvious, but that thing you launched, its trajectory was adjusted, and now, there needs to be an update. 4. Delete. Finished. Over. “Thirty.” This part of the process is wrapped, so hit the delete key.
Create —Read — Update — Delete.
They are four, simple steps to making the life of Pisces and this next week, far more enjoyable. It’s a shorthand version for dealing the exigent situations that require immediate attention. Give it that CRUD.
There’s a certain flash–flush of data, coming at you. Could be stellar, could be a planetary influence, could be attributed to a number of different influences, but how the Pisces effectively deals with that incoming data stream? Maybe not always a good plan, but for now?
CRUD: Create —Read — Update — Delete.
It’s a little late in the season to make chilli, but I needed to get some items moved out of the ice box, and the easiest way — for me — is to throw whatever I’ve got into a pot. Let that simmer overnight. The next day, the house is redolent in the aromatic blend of chili and home-cooking. A few days back, I took stock, figured what I would need, and made a mental list. What I got cost $1.07.
This batch? I called it “$1.07 chili” — bought a Habanero pepper and a tube of cheap, off-brand chorizo.
My recipe varies, but it’s whatever I have on hand, or whatever looks good at the store, that day. Some kind of meat, or meat-like product, then either tomatoes, or beef stock, or whatever looks good. In certain seasons, particular peppers are better than others. All depends. In this version, it was “whatever was left behind” chili. However, to make it perfectly acceptable, I have two secret ingredients, one is a tube of “chorizo,” a Mexican-style sausage that is as hideous as it good. I squeeze a tube of that in. Cost less than a dollar, and this is not a quality meat product. More like nasty by-products, but it adds flavor. Additionally, I bought one Habanero pepper, chopping and dropped in the pot as well. Just enough heat without adding too much. Total cost for a big bowl of chili, although, we’re totally unsure of how long that was in the freezer, but that one batch? $1.07, and that was for the cheap chorizo and single pepper.
Don’t make this complicated. My recipe was simple, a single pepper, Scotch Bonnet to some, and some super cheap chorizo. There’s always a way to use what you’ve already got without having to spend much more, if anything at all.
Barely more than a dollar, in this case.
Stand on tradition.
As fatuous as that might seem, given the weird alignment slowly unfolding, and how this kind of planetary arrangement affects the singularly stable Taurus? In the next few years, we will often discuss breaking with tradition, breaking rules, and breaking the ties that bind the Taurus down, but for now?
Stand on tradition.
An old tradition, inherited from my grandfather? Spit on the bait. Sounds yucky, but it served a purpose, in its era, as that made the bait taste less like plastic and more like food. To the fish, that’s what I mean, more like food, to the fish. This isn’t about a big, awful, throat-clearing noise and spit, just a tiny bit of saliva on the bait. Inter-coastal fishing, the effect was to liven up the live bait by a tiny bit of “Kramer’s expectoration.” Whatever it is, luck or science, or, in this example, luck backed by science? My suggestion, for Taurus?
Stand on tradition.
“So you’re saying to spit on it?” No, I’m saying stick with whatever traditional manner of material seemed to have worked in the past. For now. Just for the time being?
Stand on tradition.