- Marriage, uncle? Alas, my years are young;
And fitter is my study and my books
Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
1 Henry VI 5.7.20-222
He’d rather study than pursue romance. Huh. The suggestion, albeit good, seems atypical.
The Sun enters the tropical zodiac sign of Cancer on June 21, 2019 at 10:54 AM. Happy summer.
Horoscopes for 6.20.2019
Fast. Slow. Hot, cold, make up your mind! “Would you make up your damn mind?” All I got is a definite maybe. Mars is funny like that, especially, on the heels of the opposition with Pluto then almost playing tag with Mercury. Just causes a certain amount of confusion as to what tempo this is supposed to be at.
This is 4/4 beat, right? Basic thump-thump-thump-thump, correct? Not hard to get. Boom-chicka-boom-chicka. Repeat as need be. Loop it. Basic thudding of the bass line to give it some rhythm, right? Sure. Fast. No, slow it down. No, speed it up. There is no even tempo at the moment. Those of us who are rhythmically challenged, yes, at least I know that I won’t be setting the beat, the pace, but the Cancer Moon Children will think they can set the pace. Only, it’s not fast enough, no, wait, too fast, slow it down, no speed it up. This is the function of Mr. Mars, and he’s on his way out, but he ain’t left yet. Fast. Slow.
Here, you drive (obviously I’m doing it wrong — but I’m not a Cancer).
What I heard, and I’ll repeat is as the expression is useful, “You are messing with powers beyond your ken.” No Leo, and certainly not The Leo wants to hear that type of dire warning, and yet, there it is. Until further notice, or, at least another couple of weeks? No. Do not mess with it. I know, it would be fun to tweak it a little see what happens. No. Why?
Mars/Mercury, following Mars oppose Pluto, and then, the Sun itself in the sign that precedes The Leo? The answer is “No,” or, at the very least, “not quite yet.” There’s that sense, if you are quiet long enough to realize the sound? If you’re quiet long enough, you know that there is a distant rumbling, the approach of train, a stampede, something, thunder of hooves, thundering motorcycles, Mad Max, who knows? But that source of impending action? Ain’t here yet. Simple enough. Wait. Wait for it. No, not yet. If you wait, you will be able to, rightfully so, command the situation. For the time being? Don’t mess with powers beyond your ken.
This isn’t getting any easier, and it only gets worse as long as you refuse to look at the real facts. I’m known as a fisherman and a writer of horoscopes. No one expects me to always tell the absolute truth, when, in fact, that’s exactly what I do. Easier for me. But no one expects it. So I’m not one to really talk about denial. I adhere to straight facts, as that’s just easier for me.
But that’s me.
For this week’s Virgo missive? Look at the real facts. Not manufactured, or rose color glasses facts, no, the harsh cold light of day. The summer sun can be brutal and that’s what this is about, that material that is not what you want to see, but straight up, how it is. I can dress up the facts and make them appear more — or less — substantial than they really are. Still, there’s a sense that my sweet Virgo lass, or lad, must confront the facts as they really are. No dressing it up. Rolling organic male bovine by-product in powdered sugar still doesn’t make it a beignet. Just facts.
The last university I graduated from had a color scheme that was sort of maroon and yellow. Or gold and maroon. I have no loyalty as far the university itself is concerned, as, my current donations and will directs what’s left to go to the University of Texas (Austin). Not like they need help, but familiarity, plus they have this really cool special collections library. All sort of arcane stuff there. So the last university, where I graduated? Colors are still maroon and gold, more like a dark red, not an arterial blood red, but dark, can’t even think of wine that fits it. Dark red and a golden shade of yellow. Just a tad darker than regular sunshine yellow.
Unsure of the source, I had some lilies bloom in the backyard, and when I say, unsure of the source, I can’t imagine that anything I planted. Must’ve been left over from a previous tenant. Which was weird, to me, as the lilies were that shade of yellow and maroon, made me think about the university’s colors. There’s no loyalty there; I didn’t do this on purpose, just happened that way. I merely observe the phenomena, and report back.
As a Libra, best way to make it through this mess of a week? Just observe and report back. No judgement, no coloring that opinion, just look, and report back what you see. Simple as that. Weird, those flowers I didn’t plant happen to come up in school colors. Who knew? Observe, no judgement, report back. All I’m doing. All I ask you to do at this time, just look and tell me what you see.
Some days, all I have left are some memories. A few, faded photos, and that’s about it. Just faded memories and old pictures. One image from “Back in the day,” in Austin resurfaced while I was looking for something else. Made me think about the formative years, and what made me what I am today. I had it pretty good in a trailer park in old South Austin, long before the economies of life shifted.
There’s a risk, though in dwelling in that past. There’s a risk — especially for Scorpio — about looking back over your shoulder to see how things were, back then, and if only you knew then what you know now. Looks good on paper, doesn’t work in the real world. There’s a trap, foisted mostly by Mr. Mars, but then, it’s also a function of the last major angle Mars made to Pluto, and the tricky part is not to get caught in the reverie. I found this cool, old picture of me, submerged beneath the waters of Austin’s legendary, mythic Barton Creek. Careful about going back to something, someplace, that might not longer be there, not like we recall from our memories.
My landlord texted me that she’d hired a guy to do some work on the place where I live. Since I tend to “office at home,” yeah, not a problem. Guy shows up, and he’s got his tools in a bucket. Kind of a blue-collar, scruffy looking guy. In a manner of minutes he fixed some stuff that would’ve taken me days.
Two lessons here, one, if the it’s the landlord’s responsibility? Let the landlord hire the guy to fix it. The other lesson, a little more profound for me? For our Sagittarius selves? “The guy,” in this example a feller with a bucket full of tools, probably knows how to do it, and he knows how to do it quicker, easier, with less trouble, than ourselves.
On some occasions, it’s fun to do it ourselves. I have a few DIY projects I’ve done — and enjoyed the labor plus the results. But there are other tasks, and this was such a shining example, manual labor for which I am ill-suited, and that guy? Only took him few minutes. Me? Three days. Him? Matter of minutes, and that is something, as a Sagittarius, we must respect. If this is best left to an expert? Then leave it to an expert. They make it look so easy.
Where does the responsibility lie? With whom? Ultimately, this is about figuring out who is guilty — and who’s not. While this might take longer than your Capricorn self would like, the question remains. At the feet of whom should this be laid?
There’s a yearning inside the Capricorn soul, a need to know, and need to blame. Or hold responsible. Justice must be served! Yes, I’ll agree with that, just, think, pause and think, are you sure that your Capricorn self is the correct person to do this? Are you the judge, jury, and executioner yourself? Should some of this be handled by other people? I understand that desire to do it all yourself, and yes, I understand the responsibility, but seriously. No, seriously, all on you? As Mars moves away from the Pluto/Mars opposition? There’s a strong need, an urge, a driving — compelling — force within the Capricorn psyche that needs, wants, desires, a culpable culprit. Pause. Before you start assigning blame? Pause. As Mars moves out of opposition, the real guilty party starts to emerge. Don’t rush to judge.
As a side question, nothing to do with anything, I was trying to figure out the difference between a hurricane and tornado. I know, locally, that hurricanes spawn tornados, but then, tornados also occur bereft of the hurricane parentage. There’s a portion of the middle states of American that are called “Tornado Alley,” as that kind of violent weather occurs frequently. I grew up, in part, at the tail end of Tornado Alley, so I’m familiar with the destructive potential. As an Aquarius, we have to be aware of the absolute power of the wind; Aquarius, it’s an Air Sign. You knew that, right? As the summer starts in earnest, and as the — locally — hurricane and heavy weather seasons commence, remember that this is merely a function of air. The Aquarius element is Air.
One should never underestimate the power of the winds.
I know. I’ve been on both sides of that, blown away by an Aquarius, and watched, as an Aquarius breeze pushed a sailor to new horizons. Works both way, and this next few days, we must be careful what we expend that energy upon. Hurricane? Tornado? I’m not sure of the difference, but both can be equally destructive, or massive displays of the might of Mother Nature. Do not underestimate the power of the winds, despite “air” being such an intangible resource — to some.
One of my Pisces buddies is a tall, handsome specimen of manly manhood. And he’s a Pisces. Swaggering, got an attractive wife he can brag about, and as a guy’s guy, my buddy? He’s full of that male bravado. Macho, without being too manly, but he positively reeks testosterone.
In a more quiet and reserved moment, or with his granddaughter, he can be really tender, loving, kind. His wife showed me an image of my buddy with — looked like — a tiara on his head. “A three-year old girl puts a tiara on your head and you have tea, you better play along.” Wife grinned.
My buddy, though, as a Pisces, can easily fit in the more tender role, as need be. Pretty sure there will be no image of him, like that, posted on the web. There’s a clean split to this week’s Pisces materials. Two sides that seem rather different. Two sides that don’t seem connected. Two sides that some people — non-Pisces people — might have trouble reconciling. Not so much opposites as much as diametrically opposed elements. Combine the two. I can easily understand the macho bluster in the face of the modern world, and how that’s required, and then, I can understand — and easily see — my buddy completely wrapped around the finger of that little girl. Macho, huh. Be willing to combine the elements to succeed.
As of now, I’ve never seen a live production of Shakespeare’s Henry 6 trilogy. I’ve listened to it a few times, previously, on a commute for work, but no, never seen it live. Personally, I’d have to wonder about the motivations of young man who would rather study than dally with a potential lover. Might just be me. I’ve heard that there are such kinds of people. Certainly wasn’t me. Never having seen this live, though, I can’t say that’s exactly what the message was, true, ironic, straight, gay, not sure at all.
The Henry 6 plays, all of them get passed over as early, and therefore, kind of hammered, and not hammered in a good way. However, as I listened, I could hear the incipient creep of wordplay and excellent poetry. Roots, as it were. Roots clearly audible in that early material. The University of Texas did the three plays as a part of a greater cycle, a few years back, but I was otherwise occupied and didn’t get to see them. As I’ve aged, that regret has grown. I’m unsure of any opportunity to ever see the trilogy now. To add to it, it’s a little convulsed, but the roots and antecedents of great masterpieces, plus a good dose of English history is all there. While, ostensibly, I was making a point about the weird early Shakespeare plays no one knows, what I was really getting at, for Aries? With the start of Cancer, the Moon Children’s moody crab? In the foreseeable future, if there is something you want to do? Do it. Don’t put it off until later, as there might not ever be another chance to see that — like Henry 6 — parts one, two, and three.
And fitter is my study and my books
Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
On my nightstand, you know, end table at the side of the bed? On my nightstand I have a collection of books that I am hoping to read. There is an arcane astrology text, bit of a one-off set of theories. There’s a small-press murder-mystery. One of my associates has a collection of material that really should be a blog series, but she popped it into a book.
Got a weird Shakespeare scholarship text, too, one that I have been meaning to read, just never found the time. There are at least two more self-published books that I should do more than just glance at. That’s the immediate stack of books I would like to tackle. That’s not what’s on the tablet or in the office, that’s just bedside. I’ll pick up one of those texts, read a few pages, realize that the content or style, or some other aspect of the novel, the way the plot plays out against the story, worse, some of it is merely academic crap, and unless it’s well-presented? That stuff is boring.
Which one will it be? Boring academic stuff? Riveting personal narrative? Hand-wrought epic poetry from a friend? All sort of depends, and the idea is to sort some of this out, at this time. My easiest form for sorting reading material like? I need a few moments, preferably a few minutes, with each text. I’ll read a passage and see if it grips me. Simple enough, after looking through the scholarship, the free-verse, and the histories, I found that one action novel was most entertaining. I’ll bet that one character in it is a Taurus, too. Just seems to fit. Sort, divide, and then, prioritize to get through that stack of — well, for me, it was books. I’m unsure of what kind of stack you’re facing.
Sort, divide, and, prioritize — simple enough.
Every few years, I get to trot this one out. It’s an old recipe, built partially on hipster coffee trends, and partly on my location in a border town, and partly because I obviously don’t ever get enough caffeine. The mix, the original recipe was for a double shot of espresso mixed with Mexican Coke. Coca-Cola produced in Mexico, then imported as that has the alleged properties of the original recipe since the sugars are pure cane sugars, not some chemical variant, a mutation of high fructose corn syrup. Supposedly.
To me, the Mexican Coke is an occasional guilty pleasure. I buy, maybe, a case in a year. Back to the original recipe which was two shots of espresso, mixed with lukewarm Mexican Coke. The espresso tempers the sweetness of the coke, and the coke reduces the bitterness of the coffee. My summer, Gemini version? Espresso over ice, then add the Mexican Coke. Served chilled, preferably as a mid-morning meal replacement. Just enough sugars — good sugars — to add impulsive energies to the double dose of caffeine, which, in this Gemini combination? Serves to mellow the racing Gemini brain just a bit. Like two elements that wouldn’t go together, normally, we’re combining some different stuff, to make this week better for Gemini. Iced espresso with Mexican Coke, served cold on a hot summers day.
“Dude, I’m getting heart palpitations from the rush.”
It’s working, see?
astrofish.net/travel for appearances
“Nothing runs on automatic.” - L.W. “Bud” Shipley, Jr.