- By day and night he wrongs me, every hour
He flashes into one gross crime or other
That sets us all at odds.
New Moon — in Cancer — opposite from Pluto. But what does that signify?
Horoscopes starting 7.12.2018
It was a picture for moms. It showed a mom-character sipping coffee, from a coffee cup, with clean saucer in hand. Right. Perfect hair. Perfect make-up. Calm. Looked at ease, serene and peaceful. Also had some verbiage about “Mom.” Now, if this were true? There would be no saucer, maybe larger go-cup of black coffee, or perhaps, something stronger. There’s a recurrent theme online, “Mommy NEEDS vodka” is the sense of that one. Understood. Those peaceful, casual, reflective mom pictures? Exactly how realistic is that? I dated a number of single moms, and I always assumed it was because I was cute, kind, considerate, and, you know, back in my time, smokin’ hot. Stud muffin. Please don’t laugh. What I discovered, much later, was that those single moms were too exhausted. Maybe I was kind of cute, but it started, and ended, there. Kindness goes a lot further than that totally unrealistic image of a mom, quietly reflective in warm sunny breakfast nook, sipping on an elegant cup of coffee. Be realistic.
Helps to understand what elements are in play, at the moment, then the over-arching theme will emerge. Mars is retrograde, in position that opposite from The Leo. Then, there’s the start of this little scope, when there is a new moon in Cancer, which precedes The Leo. It’s matter of seeing the goal — clearly — in the distance. Mars will muddle that, you know.
The clarity will come, but the clarity and understanding doesn’t occur with out some of The Leo work. It’s like digging in a sand pit, and you have to make sure you shore up the sides before going deeper. Or dig a pit wide enough so that the sand won’t cascade down to the bottom. Either way, we’re trying to get to what is underneath the mess. What is the underlying source of The Leo’s consternation? Helps to understand what elements are in play, at the moment, then the over-arching theme will emerge.
When you feel like quitting? That’s when we’re just getting started. Bit of T-Shirt kind of motivational sort of quote, but as I was working through the New Moon in Cancer unfolding to the first quarter moon, then the relative position of a few other items, not to mention that pesky Mars thing, you know, looking at it all? Taking all of that into consideration, then coming up with a single, coherent theme for Virgo? When you feel like quitting, we’re just getting started. There is a swelling tide of emotion, like an ocean breaker, washes over you, and that sense that this is the time to stop, the time to quit, the time to give up? As soon as you feel that, think back to my suggestion, bit bumper-sticker in tone, but the time you feel like quitting is the the time to start working.
For some people, certain Virgo types I know, they will abandon the goal before the moon gets a quarter way there. Others, though, if you’re reading this, might want to consider differently. Give up? Or start working harder?
What will it be?
“When you feel like quitting? We’re just getting started.’
I feel prey to one “Get-rich-quick” scheme. Exactly once. Since then, although the delivery method and patter has changed, it’s still the same idea, “Send money, and …” the rest is hyperbolic crap. Once. Got me once, and I never wandered into that area again, as there’s sense about the material itself. The problem lies with the promises made by the material, the promise of a lifestyle that is richer than what is currently in front of you. Does that really work? Picture of a guy on yacht, picture of sports car that costs more than my house, that sort of hint. Is it real? There’s a pitch, coming this week, to Libra, and oh-how-you-want to believe. I would like to believe, too. I want it as bad as you do, but we both know, in our little Libra hearts, it’s just not true. The old piece of advance, as this week gets along, and as the weird stuff continues? Oldest piece of advice I’ve heard, for this week? For Libra?
“Easiest way to double your money is to fold it over, and stick it in your pocket.”
While I’m adept at the military, or naval “shipboard” shower, the wet-lather-rinse in less than three minutes, while I’m adept at that — think a trailer in South Austin with its tiny water heater — while I can do that, the short, scrub, rinse clean shower? For Scorpio, while that’s a great idea? There needs to be a about thirty seconds of reflection while the water is cascading down your face. Just pause long enough to feel the water caressing your lovely Scorpio visage. Just pause, long enough to let it catch up with you, then let it wash over you. There’s a moment of reverie that benefits you. Maybe a half-dozen years ago, I started an active process of meditation, but until then, I had practiced “meditation” in many different forms. For Scorpio, some kind of meditative process vents your wounded and damaged Scorpio soul. The Scorpio psyche has been hurt, or perception of hurt, and that extra thirty seconds of water, rushing over your face, might bring the clarity and direction you need.
“Yeah, it’s great until some Sagittarius flushes the toilet.”
“Man plans and the gods laugh.” Old adage, aphorism, something. Heard variations of this all my life, and right now, in Sagittarius? Yes, our version? “Sagittarius plans, and the planets laugh.” It’s really not a big deal, it’s just that we have this and that and then that, over there, and all of this needs — in our Sagittarius minds — all of this needs to be accomplished sooner rather than later.
Here’s the hitch, the catch, the problem, the point? It will not go according to our plan. No matter how carefully we pull stuff together, no matter how much thought — and preparation — we pour into this? Yeah, might not go according to our Sagittarius imagined plan. Not saying it won’t happen — like it is supposed to — but as a fair warning, our Sagittarius plan? That might not be the best way for this to work. The goal, destination, the perceived plan that we think is best? Might not really be best, but instead of getting worked up, then worked over, about the apparent failure, keep the objective in mind.
“Sagittarius plans and the gods laugh.”
Hey, a little comedy would be really good about now.
Got to “Man Up,” some days and admit, “I was wrong.” As a Capricorn, that’s the sense of this week’s energy. The term itself, “Man Up,” that’s highly sexist, but “woman up,” while potentially way stronger, really doesn’t carry the right vibe. Neither does the term, “Person Up,” although, maybe “Human Up?” Nope, doesn’t seem to carry the same, albeit dated and sexist in frank terms, the idea is to own up to the mistake. Don’t shy away from the error the has been made. Own it. Old piece of advice, originally in my text for Pink Cake, a quotidian quote collection?
“If you can’t be right, be wrong at the top of your voice.”
Or something like that. While I’m not encouraging it quite to that strident of a message, I think the intent carries well. Own it. I made a mistake, I was wrong, I am sorry, and I can fix this. Or I can’t fix this, but we now know what the problem is. As a Capricorn fan, you know that I am in there with you. Old joke, a good friend will bail you out of jail, but a really good friend, like me, I’ll be there, in jail with you. “That was fun!”
Two examples, at least one with me right beside your Capricorn self, simple message? “Own it.”
The Molotov Cocktail is an improvised incendiary device, with its name an interesting historical note. Look it up, pop that into a search and see what the story is. While the idea is ages old, rather current iteration is fairly recent, a bottle filled with flammable fluid — like gasoline — corked with a swath of cloth, all of which is ignited and hurled. Strong way to make a point, and an ideal tool of the revolutionary, as this is fairly easy cobble to together.
The history of the name was what interested me, as I have not intention of fabricating, or being in a situation that requires such a device. However, as an Aquarius metaphor for the next few days? Careful, as this works quite well. It’s easy to improvise, it’s potentially deadly, and it’s a tool of the revolution. The inherent problem is that once started, the fire itself is less discriminating in its reach. Fun historical trivia? There are earthen vessels that were used in a similar fashion, archeological ruins prove this, more than two millennia past. It’s not a new weapon, but the caution, this week, is using one when outcome — as it turns out — can’t be controlled.
Right ideas, wrong tool, this Aquarius week. But do take a moment to look up the antecedents and entomology of the name itself. I think you will find that of particular interest.
There’s a persistent urge to get back to Pisces roots. This symbolism changes from person to person, and even within the same Pisces psyche, the meaning can vary with the moment. But is about Pisces roots. The urge is to return to one’s roots, but the strong allure and appeal of dwelling the past is a the problem. Too much time spent looking over your Pisces shoulder means you’re not looking forward. Granted, as a Pisces, you have preternatural ability to perceive dangers and obstacles that mere mortals, like the other 11 signs, can’t see, but that doesn’t mean that the basic laws of physics don’t apply to you — on some occasions. It is laudable to get back to your Pisces roots. However, this reflection should be used as a launching point to move you forward, not languishing in the past. Getting back to our roots is good; helps to know from whence we all came. Dwelling in the maudlin past? That’s the trap to this week’s urge to seek out our roots. Had to acknowledge where we are from. Don’t have to dwell in it.
Walking out of a local TexMex place, a large — probably extended — family was walking. Latin, from casual observation. The ostensible ”patriarch” was herding some kids in the back. There was an over-powering aroma of “After Shave.” There were moms, daughters, aunts, granddaughters all part of the group. None of the women were wearing a perfume as strong as the patriarch’s aftershave. Walking out, I was hit by the “Wall of Smell,” that distinct aroma, and looking, it was clear, almost like a giant cloud, it was the family’s head person. Or titular head of household, however that works, culturally. It was that wall of smell, and either he was old, and didn’t know, but surrounded by that many females, I’m sure someone would’ve said something. On exactly one occasion, I overdosed the magical oils I was using at the time. Greatly offended one fishing buddy enough that he made mention of me swimming patchouli. I never confronted that same issue until I walked into that patriarch’s wall of aftershave. Cologne. Who knows?
Aries: This week’s spells relief in a number of ways. Don’t over-do it!
Wall. Of. Smell.
Traveling, as I have back and forth across the American Southwest, part of the culture includes various metalworks, purportedly done by natives. As a long-haired individual, for many of those years, I desired, lusted after, a silver, or silver and turquoise hair-tie. With the long, straight black hair of the more traditional natives, it just seemed so appealing. I tried a few silver hair things, but none really worked, at least, not for me. A few years ago, I picked up a copper button, probably on the square in old downtown Santa Fe (NM).
Threading a new hair tie through it, I would wear that button from time to time, as a dressy kind of hair tie. Sort of worked. Eventually, I forgot about it, but that dull button resurfaced, the other day, rather tarnished. After a quick swipe with a silver polish cloth, I figured something stronger would be required. I dabbed it with metal polish, and in moments, it was bright and shiny as a new button. The polishing action for a ponytail-holder reminded me of military training, and polishing brass, same gesture, and, in part that memory was triggered by the smell of the polish, same brand as before.
As much as the repetitive action of polishing a small, circular piece of metal, the aroma of the polish tinged, and tweaked, my memories. There are a number of astrological influences for Taurus, but the effect is one that triggers a flood of memories. So, for Taurus? Think about what I just described, I started with traveling back and forth, tried to pull my hair back and had memories from more than 30 years ago, flood my consciousness. So I was wondering, does the military still require all that cleaning, and lining up boots, crisp made beds, and all?
Taurus: Be careful or you go sideways, like me, in a hurry.
There’s a kind of “street smarts” I’ve witnessed from time to time, and I was thinking about a certain instance of it, in respect to Gemini — Gemini and this week’s weirdness. Street smarts is a form of problem resolution, especially when a device or object is used out of context. Looks handy enough, and it works, so why not? I got one buddy, he’s got a ton of Virgo in his chart, and while, technically, not a Virgo, he responds like one. Coastal fishing trip, not long ago, I was using a lure that is clearly marked as Bass Fishing Top Water (fresh water — only.) In the right place, at the right time, worked really well on specs, Speckled Sea Trout. My buddy was upset, as I was catching more that morning than he was, and I was doing it on the wrong lure. The downside is, three days later, the hooks on that lure were rusted out. It was intended for freshwater only, but worked so well, just for two mornings, on the coast. The Gemini suggestions for this week include using that innate Gemini Street Smarts to get stuff done. Whatever it takes to get the goal. Individual steps don’t count, the process is what works.
“Why did you use that?”
Gemini answer? I had it, and it worked.