And I; and now we three have spoke it,
It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.
Henry 6.2 (3.1.281-)
Horoscopes for 8.27.2020
The throaty growl of an American V-8 is an emotionally heart-warming sound. It feels like hope. It feels like summer nights, with the windows down, carefree, and casual. Probably a little buzzed, too, but mileage may vary. Old buddy had a newer Charger, it was fun. Growled like it meant it, but was all clean-running, and it missed just a touch of that gritty noise, a little too subdued. Nothing can really effectively match that type of sound except old, American iron. Likewise, in Virgo, nothing can match that special essence that only a Virgo can pull off, part nice, part nasty. That last term, there’s a very covered up, almost repressed sense of sensuality in every Virgo, and that starts to bubble up in this week. Pushed forward by a myriad of planet influences, and then, birthdays and this varies individual to individual as to how it does get displayed, but it’s there. That throaty growl of the old, American V-8, to me, evokes a similar feeling. It’s really all fun and games until one realizes that those older motors, despite the noise? They belch huge mounts of environmentally insensitive, unburnt hydrocarbons into the atmosphere, and the old motors are a horrible waste of available resources. Still, like any Virgo might tell us? “Could be dirty, but sure is fun.” Here’s to a good Virgo time.
I recently had one of those fishing experiences that was better than most. Weird day on the water, caught a Texas trifecta, which depends, is either Reds, Specks, and flounder, or Reds, Specks, and Drums. Redfish, or Red Drum, Specks are speckled trout, and Drum means black drum, with flounder being flounder. Good flounder is always one-sided. No pictures of any note as we were way too busy catching and releasing, as almost all of the fish were undersized. Short, too short to legally keep. Besides, after I unhooked each of the fish, I would look it in its eyes, and tell it to go and grow up, we will catch each other another day.
“Catch you later, man!”
Some of those fish, in juvenile form can grow as much as an inch in a week. The admonishment to grow up? That works well, as that as August fishing, with October fishing looking mighty good in that one spot. I known there are fish there. I just have to wait until they all grow into an acceptable size to keep. The long-winded message for Libra follows with me, and that idea that the fish will be great in October. End of September, even, as most them just needed an inch or less to be legal keepers. What does wildlife game management have to do with Libra? Just have to wait, just a little longer. Soon, very soon, but maybe, not this week.
One year, when I was in school in Arizona, sequestered in cold-water bedsit in the student barrio? One year I picked up a set of flannel sheets, seconds, cheap, ill-fitting, but floral flannel nonetheless. On the rare cold desert nights, those sheets kept me warm when the landlord’s paltry space heater didn’t fight off enough of the cold.
Years later, in old South Austin, I had those sheets out one winter, and that didn’t go as planned. There are a few weeks, some years, of bitterly cold weather — and that’s by my standards, the term, “bitterly cold.” There are a few weeks, at the most, of weather that justifies flannel sheets. I think that one winter in Arizona? Think it was an unseasonably cold winter, even had a dusting of snow in the area, so the sheets served a purpose. But by the time I got where I was, and even more so, where I am now? Those sheets aren’t even a thing. I think they got left behind in a hasty, late-night retreat from an ex-girlfriend, but without a time machine, we’ll never know. Not really much of a loss. Like I suggested, a few nights out of the year, they were nice. Toasty, soft, warm. Cozy, yeah, that would be the best term, “cozy,” something to crawl up and into during a cold winter’s eve, probably curled up with a book.
At the time, it was a reasonable purchase but these days, bedsheet technology is greatly improved, and, I live in a hot, humid subtropical climate. No longer an idea, much less a good one.
We got lots of non-Scorpio stuff piling up across the night sky, and those planets suggest hasty decision-making. Not asking a lot, but do think it through, is this really an item that is required, or is it more a novelty choice, perhaps for people (other signs) who live in other places?
September fishing is right around the corner. Something to look forward to, as it can be great fun. It will eventually start to cool, just not quite there, yet. That would be the caution, too, as we get a little hasty in our interpretation of what is what. It will cool off, eventually. It will be more fall-like, in South Texas, eventually. But gathering up winter outwear for around here? Bit early, bit hasty, and probably not necessary. Still, yeah, it might seem like a good idea, but no. One buddy already has his deer hunting gear out, and he’s talking about the deer lease. Not me, I’m still in full summer mode, and I will be for a spell. But that’s because I can see other Sagittrius brothers and sisters anticipating the fall before the season even reasonably arrives. Look: this horoscope starts in August. Why would we be thinking about cold December mornings, now?
As a patient and almost timeless observer of all things Capricorn, I’ll pass a quick observation, and, like, you can use in the next few days. The tricky part is, does this line apply to you, or are you quoting me and making a point to some other sign?
“Lack of planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on my part.”
Because it comes up. Because it happens. Because some people fail to think an action all the way through to its obvious conclusion. “Why?” Because. There are those, and this can be usually thoughtful Capricorn, too, you know, and it is probably kicking off these next few days. Either it’s yourself, but my bet is someone around you, “Didn’t think that all the way through huh?” Remember: Lack of planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on my part.
There’s a natural rhythm and cadence that I like. I find it when things kind of just flow properly. With so much scholarship, backing, supporting, or even contesting it, the bulk of Shakespeare’s work is meant for an audio delivery, best scene on stage. Even so, I’ve watched as different actors take on roles that I assume would go one way, and it goes another, adding depth and new meaning to mere words. Part of this is found in the natural rhythm and cadence of the language itself. Shakespeare’s iambic pentameter was just an easy grasp for me, quickest example I could get to. There is the sense that the iambic pentameter did follow a natural cadence for speaking, duh-dah-duh-dah, &c. This kind of rhythm works well, but for Aquarius, this week is about seeking that pace.
That cadence. That rhythm. Looking for the beat.
When I look at the Pisces chart? There is this incessant buzz in the back of my brain, like I’m being reminded that I’m missing something important, but I can’t seem to make out what it is. The missing element in Pisces needs to be filled out by our Pisces selves. No one else can figure out what that missing piece is. That’s the conundrum poised by these disturbing stars. What we’re going to do to move forward? Understand that the simplest piece of this week’s puzzle is that missing element that can only be found inside yourself. Any number of self-help, zen-like proverbial expressions come to mind, but the tricky part is taking enough time to “think” the problem through. Doing so affords Pisces the right amount of time to help arrive at a more cohesive decision, which is what this is all about in the first place.
Kind of been nagging Aries as they all seem to have this problem of listening. Listening to me, listening to their bosses, listening to their wives, husbands, whatever, the significant other who seems to be endlessly complaining about something? Can’t fix any of that, not now.
What this is about? Preparation.
That nagging sensation, real — or imagined — is about what our Aries selves should be doing. Only going to get worse from here on in, and it’s long sprint to times that are better. The trick is to realize, grasp the understanding, that this is merely the old getting cut loose and set free. “But I didn’t want to let go of that, yet!” I feel your pain. Here’s the trick: this is is a gradual process. It’s not going quickly, This takes time. Let go, a tiny bit at a time. Not all at once. Can’t do it all at once. Don’t try and do it all at once. “Look, if I have to let go, then let’s just flush it all!” No, I realize I’m nagging now, but just a little bit, not all at once.
What I remember, and that’s where this is going, but from what I remember, the original recipe from a local place, for their wonderful “sweet tea,” that original recipe called for a pound of white, processed sugar that was super-saturated in the tea, then poured over ice. Made for a super-sweet experience. Online, I found various versions of the recipe, but I could never find that original one, “One pound of Imperial White Sugar in a quart of boiling water…” When I use sugar, if I use sugar, in any of my own concoctions? I tend to prefer the Piloncillo as it strikes me as less refined, and therefore, more pure. In both examples, the super-saturated solution used for making local sweet tea, and the raw sugar cones are examples of sweetener. Taurus needs a sweetener. Something to make this week go down a little more smoothly. I tend to prefer the ice tea, and while I rarely, if ever, drink the sweet tea, I know where to get it, and I know a good recipe. Starts with a pound fo sugar in a quart of boiling water then make some ice tea. I can also a see a sugar coma possible, so the recipe, like all my culinary exploits, must be adjusted for local flavor.
There comes a point where we have to accept our limits. This is one of those points, for Gemini, it’s about a limit that we must just accept as a limiting factor. I am of a certain age. I can no longer perform certain acrobatic feats I could when I was younger. Doesn’t stop me from trying, sometimes, just to make sure that I don’t bend that way anymore. Certain tasks are no longer advisable. I tend to stay away from marathon-like distances in the hot summer sun.
That would come under the heading of “ill-advised.”
Lifting heavy objects, again, the purview of younger, stronger, persons. Not me. These are simple examples, and one what I hope will carry some useful data for Gemini, as the Sun and Mercury course their ways through Virgo. The cautionary tale, when you hear yourself suggest, “I used to be able to do that, here, let me try again”? That’s the time to step aside and let someone else handle it. Hire “the guy” or something. While I’m a big fan of self-reliance, and I understand that Gemini is normally rather self-reliant, and able “to do this myself, or I used to…” Understand that there are some limits, and we really must learn to respect them. We can make this easy, think it through, or we can make this hard, try it, get broken, and then realize you can’t anymore.
There’s always the “bird’s eye view” and that affords a way to see the larger patterns at play. Looking at the larger patterns makes this easier to plot a way through the Moon Children’s problematic days ahead. The overall patterns suggests one of calm, order, and everything perfectly in its place.
The localized swirling maelstrom of chaos that this week looks like? “Circling the drain, dude, circling the drain, and about to go down…” Yeah, I can’t fix that immediately, but there’s a larger pattern and understanding that bigger picture is what helps. Look for the vantage point, and I would prefer it be some kind of mountain top. A misty mountain top and the fog gradually clears, gives your Moon Child self a chance to clearly see a way through this. Look up, look out, and search for the larger pattern, then pick a way forward. It gets easier each day. Helps to start from a high, vantage point. Think: bird’s eye view.
“No the least you could do would be do nothing.”
My inner grammar nerd had some fun with this one; turns out, it’s one of those terms that is — or can be — highly ironic. I would never, ever be hyperbolic or sarcastic with The Leo.
But this next few days, despite the pressure that seems to come from elsewhere, for The Leo? A little less action, a little less “talking about it,” and little more time spent with your feet up and you in a reclining position. You’re just served better like that. I’m on your side. You deserve a rest and relaxation, and if the rest of the world won’t get on board with this idea? Just carve it out yourself.
astrofish.net/travel for appearances
“Nothing runs on automatic.” – L.W. “Bud” Shipley, Jr.