Knights, kinsmen, lovers, yea, my sacrifices,
True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you
Expels the seeds of fear, and th’ apprehension
Which still is farther off it, go with me
Before the god of our profession. There
Require of him the hearts of lions and
The breath of tigers, yea, the fierceness too,
Yea, the speed also—to go on, I mean,
Else wish we to be snails.
Arcite in Shakespeare’s
The Two Noble Kinsmen 5.1.34-42
Horoscopes for 11.28.2019
Jupiter enters the tropical zodiac sign of Capricorn Dec. 2, 2019 around noon. The December Deal special opportunity.
Was still warm a few weeks back. My neighbor was mowing his yard. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops. I almost interrupted him to advise against a loud and cranky lawn mower while only wearing sandals, but then, if it were me? That’s what I would wear. Exactly. I might lose the shirt, depending on weather. I would also use an environmentally more friendly push mower, but again, I’m not my neighbor, and I — rather purposefully — have no lawn to mow. I leave that to the maintenance guy.
But the neighbor, he’s retired military, in flip-flops and a Hawaiian shirt? I would like to assume that is my influence. In part, it is the choice of shirts. Ever since I’ve been his neighbor, he’s gradually shifted to louder, floral-print shirts. Never totally in style so never totally out of style. I’m a good influence, right? With Sagittarius birthdays upon us all, and this horoscope commemorates my annual trip around the sun, I would look upon our perceived influences, like my former military, formerly formally uptight neighbor, dressed in board shorts, flip-flops, and a Hawaiian shirt, and from that? Happy birthday to ourselves, but we have to remember, Jupiter causes a certain amount of arrogance, and if we think that it is solely our Sagittarius influence that pervades?
If it’s difficult, we shouldn’t be doing it. There’s a certain ease and grace that comes with Jupiter. Fun times, plus, Venus is in on the mix? There’s a special way this energy plays, and unwatched, this can be a problem. For starters, though, there’s something to look at: Capricorn and age. Our elders? Yes, the elder spokespersons. Teachers, guides, “our betters,” as I’ve heard them called. “Respected elder spokesperson.”
Accord the old gods the respect that they richly deserve. Sit at the feet of those who have been before us. Listen to tales. Listen to the stories. Accumulate their knowledge so we may better plot our route forward. That’s what this is about. One of the most brilliant pieces of wisdom that was handed down, from on high? “If it’s difficult, we shouldn’t be doing it.” Might want to embrace that idea, as wisdom from our respected and venerated elders. I listened to them, and I’ll pass along what was told to me, “If it’s difficult, then we shouldn’t be doing it.” Yeah, yeah, goes against all things Capricorn, but this week? Humor me. At the feet of our betters, “If it’s difficult, then we shouldn’t be doing it.”’
“Write your own chapter.” When I saw that? I thought it was a sleazy way out of having to do the work. In part, it was, as it was a way for a self-help author sell a fatter book, charge more money, because most of the pages were, “Write down what you feel about this statement” kind of filler. In one case, I’ve used pictures as filler, same idea, only, as I discovered, the pictures are too expensive to print, and makes for a prohibitive price break.
But what does that really mean, “Write your own chapter?” Means that this is the week when you’ve got a chance to add to the narrative, and you can make it out to be whatever you want it to be. I wrote one book, or, a book-length manuscript, where I won. I was the hero and I won.
Failure as book, no one was the least bit interested in the narrative, but for me, as the author? I was able to write about a guy who won one, for a change. Kind fo a dark period of life, and yeah, the I know, it wasn’t a failure, just not a commercial success. I’m not worried about that. That was a book-length manuscript, from me. For this week’s Aquarius? I’m not sure you have to write the whole manuscript, and we just wrapped up that “write a novel in a month” thing, but think about writing a chapter. This week? Write your own chapter and have it turn out the way you want it to.
Aquarius: “Write your own chapter.”
Suggestions for the Pisces week? Treat this like a cafeteria. Treat life, this week, like a cafeteria. You grab a tray on the first day of this horoscope and start sliding it down the rails, looking at the stuff behind the glass.
The brown lumps of meat-like substance in a gravy-like semi-gelatinous fluid, that stuff looks good. The salad looks a little green, I mean, is macaroni salad supposed to be a green like that? Might want to skip that. The bread has been out for a few days, might be stale, but the desserts look good, maybe take two of those — carrot cake counts as a vegetable, doesn’t it?
See how the cafeteria approach to this week’s highly unstable (but some good stuff) works for Pisces? Cafeteria style is a secret I’ve developed, it was originally a term I borrowed from client, her term, not mine. However, I’ve worked with the definition, and expanded this to mean something a little different. This week is a buffet line, this week is cafeteria style. As you slide on down the rails of this week, pick and choose what looks good. The bread’s stale, but the bread pudding is good. See? Just choose the stuff you want, the fun stuff. The good stuff.
One friend was trying to explain a definition to me. “‘Grace’ is an unearned favor.” So working forwards and backwards from that, certain elements in an astrology — to me — represent that definition of “grace,” as in, an “unearned favor.” The heavens open up and smile down. As an Aries, though, the question remains, can you be patient enough for this favor to arrive? Then, once the favor does arrive, can you put that grace to work for you in its proper way?
The skies open up, and a brilliant beam of light shines through, and for one moment, all is right in the Aries world, and now? Can you access this in time to use this energy correctly? The bigger challenge for this week’s Aries version of grace? Not jumping too fast, “Wow, a break, let’s run with it!” Might want to wait a beat or two, until the fish gets the bait in its mouth. You have grace this week, how it shows up? And what you do with it? That’s out of my control.
The older I get, the less comfortable I am with the wretched excess of T-Day holidays. Like the idea of pie. Or my older “brother” from Austin — lives in LA (Lower Arkansas) now, he used to bring a — for real Turducken at Thanksgiving. That was fun. Good. Delicious. Love some turkey stuffed with duck stuffed with ham stuffed with chicken stuffed beef. I don’t know, just a bunch of farmyard animals all rolled into one. While I liked the idea, yeah, not really my thing, and it was only through his largess that I was able to enjoy such excess. His source dried up and then, I was able to take a step back from stuffing myself. I’ll have some turkey then some sweet potatoes, and then, whatever desert because I wouldn't ever want to be rude to the cook. But that’s about it. Less. “Less is more,” the familiar mantra. Stepping back, stepping away or just cutting back in a single area this next few days? That’s going to help the Taurus energies see a particular issue more clearly. Stepping away, pushing back from the table, or just munching leftovers instead of gorging on epic, feast-like portions? That’s the little secret. Maybe just a little less, not a lot less. Less discomfort in the coming days, too.
We’re doing this one again. One of the earliest pieces of The Fineprint was “You have to be this tall to ride this ride.” I use that expression, frequently, just to illustrate a point, usually about maturity level, or emotional sensitivity, and sometimes, empathy. “You have to be this tall to ride this ride.” What I’m desperately trying to avoid — for Gemini? “This ride” looks like a Ferris Wheel. Get it? Goes up, goes around and then? Leaves us right where we started. With the sun and moon dance, first in Sagittarius, and then beyond? The very Gemini problem is that ride, not whether you're tall enough, but understanding, it's not a roller coaster, just a Ferris Wheel. We wind up circling back to exactly where we started. Holidays and such can drive us right around the bend. If you are going on a ride, do you really want to wind up right back where you started? Maybe not step up for that promise of ride that turns out to be a very Gemini-like Ferris Wheel.
I quit fishing — at least in Texas — after Thanksgiving. For me, yes, there are some days that are just picture perfect, especially in South Texas, which accounts for the snowbirds, but most mornings are cold, and most evenings are cold, and the weather is a good guess, at best.
I’ve been coastal flats fishing in the winter months, and while it was fun? It wasn’t that fun, and when the cold wind whips up the waters, and there’s that searing sun that doesn’t seem to warm anything? I take the hint. I’m not comfortable. Like I said, I’ve tried it. Not my thing, certainly, not anymore. There was a time when I would brave the elements, but I’ve long since lost that inclination. No, not my thing, and not going to be my thing, at least, not this week.
As a sensitive Moon Child — Cancer person? Think about that decision I just delineated. Not going. Too cold. Too unpleasant. Not near enough fun for the amount of time and energy invested. Other than the ability to brag that I did, indeed, go fishing? Yeah, not a prize anymore. Or, not a prize I’m willing to chase. This week holds a few choices for Moon Children, namely, what is the cost, and does the cost justify the outcome.
For me? Yeah, probably not fishing much this next month, unless there’s a really nice day and a buddy with a bass boat wants to hit the lake on a mid-morning, when the weather is amenable.
While I prefer this advice as a Mercury in Retrograde option? Think about that box tucked in a corner of the garage, in my case, could be the back of a closet for others, could be — in the case of one aging parent — a series boxes along a wall, in a spare bedroom. In that box is a gag gift, a t-shirt, two books that were highly popular, and other, assorted material. A popcorn ball. Box of stale chocolates.
Get the idea? Stuff that can be gasp, shock, re-gifted. Therein is the clue. Before we go any further? What can be recycled, reused, or given to someone who would really appreciates it? Therein is the idea, and that’s just for this next few days. Just past this week’s New Moon in Sagittarius? Operative terms for my little Leo friends? Recycle, reuse, re-gift. There’s a certain amount of clearing, and make sure that the donations align with the person; that’s a special Leo gift. Make sure the item fits.
Sent some realistic goals. That simple, with the holiday crush, the mismatched holiday weekends on the wrong times, and the advent of Xmas? The simple solution, might be too simple for Virgo, but the easiest way to deal with this? Simple, realistic goals. I’m not going to knock out my entire shopping list by the end of the week, and that’s an example of an unrealistic goal. Break it down into manageable goals, lists that have bullet points there are achievable. Grand gestures are nice.
The planets suggest we stick with gestures that aren’t so grand. No sweeping generalizations, no broad strokes that cover huge swaths of territory, no, none of that. Simple goals. In my Virgo brain, I have a long list of items that I want, I need, to get done, like, by yesterday. Since I haven't figured out how to turn back time?
Let’s look at that list. What is a “need” and what is a merely a desire? The desire to have all of this crap behind us is just that, a want, not a need. So let’s go back and look at that list of crap that needs to get done. Pick a couple of bullet-point ideas, goals that are easy to accomplish, make that a separate list, then check those items off as they get done. Keep the Virgo goals in the world of “realistic” for now. At the bottom of the list, add a thank you note to me, for helping Virgo get stuff done, one realistic set of goals at a time.
There's a certain level of communication that feeds our souls. There’s a certain amount of coming and going, to-ing and fro-ing that is required. Some give and some take. Some holiday “madness,” perhaps interspersed with excessive joy.
All sort of depends.
Looking at the up and coming season, though, there’s a special Libra joy that it helps to get us all through this mess. With electronics and smart phones, it all works. There is no reason to lose touch with friends, family, cohorts, and others, similar types. Some times, it’s big thoughts and deep conversations about weighty topics.
This next few days, this is about “Cute Shoes!” While that might not seem that deep, or to some of us it's not that important, to the Libra psyche, this kind of banter, wit, sparkling conversation about surface matters belies the depth of the interaction. Some days — some weeks — this apparently lightweight conversation has deeper meaning and greater understanding attached to the surface. What’s on top, what’s top of mind, what’s the surface of the apparently casual conversation, the little electronic tickles? That’s an indication of deeper stuff, only, we — non-Libra people — won’t understand.
There’s a famous author — Scorpio — who claimed during an interview that he started each new book with no plan. He would just sit down and start typing. Myth and lore, and during subsequent interviews plus online press material, he always made that claim. However, after reading his books for a few years, I could — easily — detect the fine, Scorpio, hand of planning. I’m pretty sure he worked from a detailed outline. Kind of obvious as the plotting was too taut to be, just, you know, “I dreamed this up — at the last moment.”
When a clever clue in the first chapters gets echoed halfway through, then shows up at the end, yeah, not really believing it wasn’t sort of planned, plotted, and graphed. Laid out like blueprints for a structure, way I would see it. I tend to plot and plan, too, as do Scorpio. We can pretend that there is no plan, but there is. Plot, plan, graph out the details, make a list, all of that. I like one author’s suggestion of a flow chart to describe who does what to whom, and when, how, why. “Yeah, I do this from scratch, no plan.” Sure. Plan, plot, maybe, though, this week? Pretend like you did it all from scratch. “Yeah, no recipe, just my own concoction on the fly.”
astrofish.net/travel for appearances