Horoscopes for 10.4.2018

The devil speed him! No man’s pie is freed
From his ambitious finger.

    Buckingham in Shakespeare’s Henry 8 (1.1.52-3)

Always got a finger in the pie, and soon? Venus goes into her retrograde pattern — is this bad?

New Moon in Libra, Oct. 8, 2018 at 10:46 PM Central Time.

Horoscopes for 10.4.2018



The Scales

Music is a special refuge for us. As a Libra compliant person, happy birthday baby, as a Libra-compliant person, I see this week about revisiting oldies but goodies. Varies from person to person as we all have different tastes. For some, this a familiar singer/songwriter in a local showcase. For some this stadium rock, past its prime, still touring smaller venues. All depends. Oldies but goodies. For some, I’ll just excavate some old tracks I had tucked away on a spare hard drive — music I didn’t want to part with completely, but something that was out of my personal rotation for a spell. Still, this is where this week’s solace and ultimately, Libra comfort can be found, old tunes. This is about revisiting old material rather than launching out into something, For the birthday? See what we can dig up from the old “listening” collections, be that mp3, DVD, CD, cassettes, or even records. Music is a special refuge and this week is about digging out the old tunes. Whatever that is. Happy birthday.


It was one of the memes — X number of questions about, or answers, or little known facts “about me”. One question? Favorite childhood game? For me? My favorite childhood game? Not getting caught. Current favorite Scorpio game?

Not getting caught. That simple. There’s an even simpler idea, maybe do not do the crime, and therefore, no risk of getting caught. Yeah, except, I know my Scorpio, and I know better than to give them a target like that, “Just don’t do it.” As soon as I say “don’t” one — probably more — Scorpio types are plotting that perfect crime. Just a suggestion? “Don’t.” “‘Don’t’ do what?” Don’t get caught. or, better yet, don’t bend the rules even though there is an opportunity to do so, it avails you naught. One of my favorite childhood games? Not getting caught. Over thing I’ve learned now that I am adult-aged? Easiest way to win at that childhood game of not getting caught? Don’t do something I can get caught doing, or, in other words? Don’t.


Didn’t think that one all the way through, huh? Can’t say I haven’t fallen prey to that same issue, the bit about not thinking it all the way through to the logical outcome, no, can’t say I haven’t “jumped” only to freak a bit as I tried to build a parachute — on the way down. Yeah, hence the comment, “Didn’t think that one all the way through, huh.” Therein is a solid bit of sage Sagittarius advice. The biggest obstacle? Our own, Sagittarius, brains. Our Sagittarius animal-like brains, the part that responds to basic input? It is hardwired to jump first, and maybe not even bother to ask questions, like, “What are we going to do for the second act?” Or, “How does this conclude in our favor?” Both good questions and both good points, and both examples of our Sagittarius selves not thinking it all the way through. So, to work backwards from that point, the opening line, “Didn’t think that one all the way through, huh.” Working backwards from here, for the rest of this week’s fun and games? That’s the one line we really don’t want to trot out. Now, how can we make that happen? Let’s put on our Sagittarius thinking caps, first.


That life could be so simple? There is a huge urge to reduce this to a binary decision, a basic process by which this situation either “is” or it “isn’t.” Herein lays the problem: modern life, such as it is, and the Life of Capricorn, such as it is, none of this can be reduced to binary decisions. None of this, this week, is either black or white. It’s dusk. That time between day and night. The gray areas, the points where it is all halfway. Halfway here or halfway there, but only halfway. Therein is the challenge to this week’s Capricorn Stars — which half? Now, I started with a question about making life simple, and what good Capricorn ever liked it simple? So this won’t be simple, but understanding that there are no absolutes this week? That might help. Yes, maybe. No, but maybe. Other terms I like? ”Probably.” There are more complex ways to phrase these answers, but by now, you’re starting to get an image: no absolutes. No, unequivocal, definite answers. It's all a little nebulous just yet. Wait until the mud settles. Wait. Definite maybe, this week. There are no simple answers, other than “Maybe.”


For a great number of years, I dreamed of having a “Kitchen Table,” at which I could work. This has been further influenced by one of those formative teachers, and he had a great room for a kitchen area, and that was where people were entertained. Not the living room, not the dining room, but the vast expanse of a kitchen. A rather egalitarian round table, and that was the focal point — the only one I saw, for sure. I am unsure, perhaps a dozen years later, I met a professional “psychic,” and she worked at her kitchen table, too. Most of her traffic, she claimed, entered through the back door, parked around the back of the house and came in through the kitchen door to avoid suspicion, and that kept nosy neighbors from talking. So these are two examples of the kitchen table, as a focal point. Where I currently live? The kitchen is for food preparation, and in some cases, consumption, as I’ve been known to eat right out of the container, over the sink. Saves on washing dishes. But this kitchen is ill-suited for most of the work I do. However, as a change of pace, I carried a laptop into the kitchen, battery had a full charge, and I worked. Notes, email, observations, and thoughts — for future horoscopes. The little change, although by no means permanent, but the little change shifted the way I see the world. Also made the coffee more accessible. Just a little change, like working in a different room, or a different space, or whatever floats that Aquarius fishing boat at the moment. Just a slight change in venue helps immensely with alternate ways to solve that sticking problem.


Habits and attitudes change. I learn new stuff, and that causes me to switch what I do, and yet, for Pisces? There is an ever-changing stream of incoming data. Within that stream are life-changing, game-changing bits and bytes of information. Part of this week’s missive, and especially for Pisces, part of the message — decoded from the stars? Be willing to adjust to new data as it becomes available, and be willing to challenge and change the routine. As more information finds its way to your ears, eyes, head? As more information seeps into your very Pisces soul, that means we can change our directions. Shift the routine. Last year’s “super food” was Kale. Turns out that the current crops of kale are produced in near-inhuman conditions, plants growing out of watery tubes filled with allegedly organic nutrient, but the plants are not allowed to roam free, not free-range, and while nominally “organic,” yeah, not really. The hothouse conditions makes the kale itself quite bitter. I am surprised no one has done a documentary on the miserable hothouse, grow-lamp conditions that the plants are put through. It’s just awful. Inhuman. Might go a long way in explaining why the leaf is so bitter, as they are harvested even before they are fully mature. We learn new stuff. What was a miracle food, as it turns out, is really farm-factory product, bitter before its time. All of this, from a constant data stream. For Pisces? Don’t be afraid to adjust and change the conditions as you learn more.


I can quote Shakespeare, both in context and out of context. Over the years, and with an increasing exposure to the body of Shakespeare’s work, I can be a bit of a stickler for details — and quoting in context. There was an expression, correctly attributed to Shakespeare (Henry VI, part 2), but possibly taken out of context. Saw it on a T-shirt. Nothing like a T-Shirt slogan to spawn a conversation about the correct use of text. As a stickler for details, though, this goes awry, and I fail, quickly, and most assuredly. The attention to detail, worrying about a quote in context, and then, worrying my friends about how a T-shirt (think bumper sticker) slogan was incorrectly used — according to me. I can either sound like a learned and educated person, or I can sound like pompous and arrogant old fart. The problem with this week’s Aries flavor? If you give in too quickly to what you know is (probably) correct? Like me, even though my intention is to educate and elucidate, the outcome is pompous, and not well-received. My suggestion? I will make note of the t-shirt slogan, the bumper sticker, the problem, and I will start the conversation — in my head — and I will wait until another day to make a comment, out loud, about the inconsistency, my perception of the problem. No Aries likes to think about bottling up indignation until a later time, but that is probably the best course of action — or course of inaction — for this week. Yes, I know you’re right, but we don’t want to be all high and mighty proving so.


There are many schools of astrology. There are numerous belief systems. There are some religious systems that believe in astrology. There are some systems that teach astrology is bad. Some systems employ astrological data but teach that anything but their own system is wrong. I follow to a different drummer. Pretty much conversant with a number of systems, I pick and choose what data stream I care to use for what information I would like to learn. For Taurus, this week especially, there is a little-known, fairly archaic, seldom-studied branch that I would employ. Makes this a good week, but not without some troubling thoughts. Herein is where I can step in: shut up. Stop with the fear-mongering. The outright assumption that no good will come of this is probably not true. Sure, one Taurus will write me and suggest that I was wrong as there was a disaster of epic proportions. If you look for trouble, you will surely find it. However, if you open up a little, let’s consider the variations on the thematic content of the differing schools of astrology, look for a different outcome? This won’t be bad, not at all. I would also see this as an opportunity — there will probably be some discomfort this next few days — but work through the discomfort? You get a big win; you get a big step forward; there is a financial reward, again, of epic proportions.


“Fully cooked. Grill, simmer or fry over medium heat for five to seven minutes.” Same thing will probably be said about me, as the guy who writes this stuff, but that was from a package of something lingering in my ice box. Not sure what it was supposed to mean, but for Gemini? It means that the task at hand is done, already done but it tastes better, is more palatable if you cook it five to seven minutes. Grill it. Simmer in a pan. Boil in some water. Fry that sucker in grease. The hard part, the food — or whatever — is already done. However, there is still the little job of warming it up, or getting prepped, or arranging it so it looks like you did something. The trick on the packaging, is that the food looks like it was cooked again, but it was already, “Fully cooked.” As a much younger person, that meant one thing: eat straight from the package. You know, when no one is looking? I might still do that, even though it supposed to taste better if it is grilled, simmered, or fried. Some days, it’s just a matter of taking on fuel, in whatever form. Still, the message for Gemini is that the goal has been achieved, but we have to arrange the details so it looks like we worked hard. You can do that? Like the instructions suggest? Grill, simmer or fry for five to seven minutes. You do know you have to follow the instructions this week, right?


Some people believe in Spring Cleaning, a term that derives from the Middle Ages when it was an actual event. Had to do Northern European communities and the rites of the warming of the summer, and the last chance to get all the “ick” out of the domicile before the onslaught of summer. In a similar frenzied approach, there is a chance to do some “spring cleaning” for Cancer. The Crab would do well to take a turn at the old domicile and — perhaps — turn it inside out. Gut the place and start the winter with a fresh coat of paint. Maybe just sort through that junk drawer. Or, if this were me? I would excavate my workspace. I have a desk with a minimal footprint, and I would just sort through all the crap that has accumulated in the last few months. None of this is dire — nothing’s missing, it’s just a good time to clean some. There is also an urgency in the Cancer’s mind, a little voice that keeps begging for activity. Like cleaning up — maybe not a goal over haul — but just cleaning up some space that is frequently used. Think of this like the idea of spring cleaning but, instead, you’re falling into it, getting ready for the holidays and merry-making, up ahead. Yeah, wrong season, right idea: spring cleaning.

The Leo

Some days, the other person just wants you to listen. Simple as that, as there’s a whole week of this, and it only gets more pronounced after the weekend. Some days, all the other folks in the majestic and epic Life of Leo, some days, the other people just want you to listen. Understand that I understand The Leo better than most, and understand that I understand, “listening” is not always a strength. Perhaps if I were to spin it this way, if you listen? You might get clues — and evidence — that can be used at a later date. Some days were best used for biding one’s time and listening. This is one of those days. Several of them, matter of fact. Listen to us, now and a little while after, we will listen to you, the mightiest, most majestic LeoThe Leo. Listen to our complaints and diatribes now, and that gives you fodder for later.


One of my buddies started dating this guy. My buddy is female. The guy — her new partner — he’s over six feet tall, long hair, wears jeans, boots, and drawls. A lot. Deep East Texas twang to his voice. When we first met, he shook my hand, then eventually answered all my questions with “Yes sir,” and “no sir,” and the like. The good manners. Calling me “sir” was a bit amusing, as I was barefoot, slovenly attired, and certainly not used to being thusly addressed. But it does speak to a certain kind of upbringing.

Good manners? Just about every Virgo demonstrates good manners, but this one new boyfriend reminded me again, reminded me what the good manners were like and how that, to me, felt like he was genuine. The problem, the challenge with that boyfriend and his accent plus appearance? A great number of non-Texas folks will assume he is daft, or stupid, uncultured. A rustic in Shakespeare terminology, a rude mechanical. The new boyfriend sounds like an oil field worker. Looks like one, too. He is actually articulate and intelligent, but playing dumb or pandering to preconceived notions about him work well to serve him. It was was his manner and mannerism that made me think Virgo. Maybe be less quick to judge by such metrics?



About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.