Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay:
The worst is death, and death will have his day.
King Richard in The Tragedy of Richard the Second, (3.2.103-4)
Horoscopes for 10.8.2020
I picked up a new tool the other afternoon. For cleaning and adjusting this one fishing reel, I need a plain flathead screwdriver that’s almost like a jeweler’s size. Tiny little thing. I picked one up, after sorting through my own, meager collection of tools, thinking I had one that would fit, but that one screwdriver was relatively soft steel, and for this application, as it’s a particularly nice salt-water reel? I wanted a hardened steel tip, maybe a screwdriver that hadn’t been used as a pry bar, chisel, and ice pick.
The new one, I’ll only use as a screwdriver, and probably only on that fishing reel, screwdriver cost a few bucks at the big box hardware store, but that screwdriver worked well. It also has an orange handle. Like a safety orange handle? Bright, and doesn’t go with any of my color schemes. While I find that color slightly irritating, neither aesthetically nor emotionally pleasing? Makes that one tool stand out. Makes it easier to keep track of what is supposed to do what. That screwdriver has, as advertised, it has a hardened steel tip, so it might be really functional, if it’s never used as the aforementioned pry bar, chisel, ice pick, and wood drill. The point of this explanation about tools? Color. The bright “safety orange” color? Makes it easier to see in a tool box, for sure, but also reminds me that I don’t want to use for anything but its intended use. Use the correct tool. In my meager example, for the Libra birthday set? Color-coding, and with my screwdriver, a different color, not a matching color, that’s what helps.
(See Sagittarius from before.)
Don’t get to be my age without attracting a few enemies. Detractors, ne’er-do-wells, and assorted other low-life scum? Sure, we all got a few enemies. Don’t make it this far without pissing a few people off in life, am I right? There’s a special kind of patience I like, and part of this traces back to Marcus Aurelius, and one of his meditations. Maybe this was another source. However, this more specific for Scorpio, these days?
Don’t get to be my age without attracting a few enemies. Nothing’s better than that old wheel of karma thing, as the enemies shuffle off to oblivion — age-related disorders, angry former lovers, and just a general entropy? Yes, the fun part is sitting back and watching the wheel of karma turn and run over those old enemies. Might not be the most enlightened point-of-view, but I am human, and Scorpio? So are you. Think about it: the best revenge is living life well, and good, and in order with whatever precepts one considers important, and then? Watching those old enemies fall off the planet, slowly.
“You mean, I don’t have to do anything?”
Exactly. Just watch, patiently and observe.
My memory is a funny thing. I figure it’s like a dumpster, out back of a fashionable restaurant. Gets filled up, and until next Monday morning? When it gets emptied? Might not be room for anything new. While it’s an imperfect image, a faulty simile? There’s only so much room in the memory, and that gets emptied periodically. There are stray remnants, bits and pieces of the fancy dinner stuck to the side of the container, and maybe, a light coating of some detritus that smells horrible, but over time, even that recedes. Then, there are weekends when the crowds on Friday and Saturday nights are greater than usual, not recently, and that leaves a memory, the dumpster, too full. Overflowing? Yes, and what happens with my memory, like that dumpster, sometimes I remember to jot an idea down, but that’s like trash left beside the dumpster, or stuff that was tossed in, but fell out. Might get lost. Although not a good metaphor, the idea that memory is a finite container helps. Careful what we commit to memory and what we don’t want remember, the magical eraser doesn’t show up until next week. I mean, I hope this thing gets dumped then, it’s starting to get full again.
I’m unsure of the exact taxonomy, but my costal buddy referred to them as “pinfish.” Little sunfish-like critters, tiny mouth, and, I think, as protection, they have an exceedingly spiny top fin, hence the sobriquet, “pin fish.” While I’ve cataloged this elsewhere, the fishing trick, and really works well on a fall day like now? Along the Gulf Coast, hurricane and pandemic notwithstanding, get some pinfish, one for starters, and run a hook just under its top fin, and that little version of live bait catches a bigger fish. The warning for Capricorn come from handling those pinfish. Late last summer, threading a hook into one, the little fish squirmed, I squeezed, and I dug one of the spins into a ball of flesh on my palm. Hurt, but we were fishing and injuries like this are common. A few days later, the injury — wasn’t infected — was sore. I got to digging around in the wound with a pocket knife, perfect for surgery? There was the tiniest piece of fish bone, a fragment from the spiny fin of the bait-fish. A bit of fish cartilage? I dug it out, and my hand was better. Looking closely at the spine, the fish flesh dissolved, and what was left was a bone-like piece with little hooks. It was a barbed spine. No wonder it hooked my flesh. This week, if you’re not extra Capricorn careful? The seemingly innocuous, like a pin fish, the almost harmless objects, turns out they have little barbs, and not handling it with care leaves one behind in your Capricorn self.
Straight up numbers? There’s about one Aquarius in every twenty who will do well under this extended forecast. The other nineteen? We’re not so lucky. Not that this is bad, but it it might not be exactly comfortable. A slower, more bucolic pace helps matters. Here’s how to handle this: we hit the lake early, one morning, last week. Really early. Left out at “Oh-dark thirty.” Almost cold, on the lake’s surface by seven, and fished our little hearts out until most near noon with nary a nibble. Tried one spot, little action, motored over to another cove, again, not much, trolled over towards another spot where some willows hang low, again, nothing. Then, with the sun high in the sky, the action started. The morning’s patience paid off with lots and lots of fish, but it took a while to find them. Eventually, we motored back to where we started, think we just used the trolling motor to get there, and that’s where we ended the day, boating more than our fair share of fish. The singular trick was patience. I was used to fishing being a morning show, and being patient, like I suggest for Aquarus? Being patient? Happened more towards noon — that day.
Even with my limited schedule, it happened again. Guy walks up, asks for a reading, we chat, and I ask him how he’s heard about me. “Oh, man, you met my sister, you know, her name is,” an he rattled off a vaguely Latina name. I look back at him, “Let me guess, about this tall,” and I gestured, “and brown hair, brown eyes, really lovely, and she’ll say I liked her?” He nodded, “Yeah, you know her!” I couldn’t place her without an astrology chart. Birthday, planets, something, but I went with the flow, and I did a reading, and he’s getting what he wanted, but I admitted I couldn’t remember his sister — at all. “Ha! No worries, man.” It’s the idea that I’m known and I deal with the public, and it can be scary, but mostly it’s good, like that one. But there is an element of fear. Also: I did a good enough job to impress one, and then the other, so I’ll wind up with a whole family as clients. The part that is important for Pisces? It’s how you react to that question, “You know my sister,” and so forth.
There’s only one Aries that this doesn’t apply to, but the rest of ya’ll? Sure. Between the Moon and Mars, there’s a different “clean-up” action required. The challenge, for most of my good Aries buddies? There’s a “never look back” sentiment, and that concept tries to prevail. However, the planets, well, the Moon is a satellite of Earth, but Mars, Mars is a planet. Those two elements conspire to make a past problem resurface, and then, it’s up to the good Aries to finally put this problem to rest, once and for all. The resistance, and more than one Aries will put up a fight against this change, this chance to clean up one old mess. The resistance to change, the resistance to making the appropriate changes? That takes longer. It’s more painful. The resistance to address the issue hurts worse than the issue itself. Funny, to me, and there’s always one Aries this doesn’t apply to, but the rest? Fighting and struggling against this takes longer than just doing it.
One theory in writing suggests that the words themselves should carry the weight of the information, and punctuation is merely an afterthought. In much of the Shakespeare scholarship I’ve looked at? The question of punctuation, as the original stage prompts weren’t punctuated, as far as it is known, and those original prompts, plus changes in typography over the ensuing 400-odd years? No way to know where the breath marks were intended. All we got are words. Punctuation is an editor’s afterthought. So the weight of the words themselves should be able to carry the meaning, and when there’s an extra emphasis required? There’s always the exclamation mark. With more modern variations of printed media, thinking the easiest example is comic books? The exclamation point followed by a question mark, then another exclamation point? Captures the essence of this week, but I was unsure of how to stack that up with mere words. In this singular example, the punctuation captures and expresses the energy more evenly than the words. However, as a Taurus, based in reality? The question — and answer — for this time being? Think about using the words to convey the weight of the punctuation, not the reverse. Use the words.
I’m the boss, here. Pretty simple, I’m a one-man shop. And that works — for me. But as the boss, I get to set the rules, follow the rules, break the rules, and blame only myself when a broken rule backfires badly. Only one boss, that’s me. So I can rule this place with relative security, knowing that I’m the only one in charge, and I’m really the only one who has to suffer the consequences of my own actions. However, as a Gemini plots his or her way forward through the this morass of a weekly set of strange pandemic-panic infused energies? Think about the “boss” moniker. Who’s really in charge? One Gemini I know, he has a leadership role at work, but his role, he can’t give it a title because that offends his board of directors. We all have people to whom we must all answer. Clients, customers, fishing buddies, ex-wives, offspring, and maybe even pets. Maybe not. This is a week — we both know that Gemini is really in charge, and possibly the most capable leader, but let the other person, the board, whatever it is? Let them think they are in charge. Works better.
“Of course you’re right.”
Do I hear a Gemini eye roll? (Stop that!)
I kept getting inquiries for phone readings, after hours. While I’m not limited to “office hours,” I’ve found I’m less than wondrous if it’s after office hours. While I’m amenable, under the right conditions, with certain clients, to take calls after hours, I tend to stay away from that. There was a time, early in my career when I was willing to work from sun up straight on through to midnight. I was younger, had more vitality, and I was lean. Hungry. This came in reference to the placement of the planets, Jupiter, Pluto, and Saturn, opposite from Cancer, the usually salubrious and eloquent Moon Children. There’s a request for overtime, more hours, or work after-hours, or a similar kind of encroachment on your time. I’m at a station in life wherein I can afford to say, “Office hours only,” and be good with that. Not entirely convenient for clients, but this has to be amusing for me, and those are the hours that work best, and you want me at my best, correct? Now, when I was lean and hungry? Like you might feel right about now? When I was lean and hungry, I was willing to work those longer hours. Paid well, with numerous benefits at the expense of any kind of a social life. This week’s planets ask the question, and I think you’re going to know the answer, social life or work and career? Which comes first, just for now? Retrograde Mars triggers that pesky Saturn.
All about packaging and marketing, and that’s the missive. It’s how we decide to package up our Leo goods and let others see them. Buddy of mine, when she slips on, and the are her words, not mine, when she pulls on her “Stripper shoes,” she’s instantly half a foot taller. More stately, majestic, and those shoes do something to mere males. Females, too, I’m not judgmental. I watched another buddy’s little boy, maybe six at the time, turn on the charm, and hover around the first time when she wore those heels. Proof that some of this process is echoed through the original, mammalian brain, perhaps rooted in genetic memories? I don’t know. What this is about is packaging and marketing, and what works for The Leo? Might be something as simple as “stripper shoes,” although, I would hope that, as The Leo we are beyond such tawdry analogies, but you get the idea? It’s about packaging what you’ve got, and showing in a way that works best for The Leo — whatever works best to get you what it is what you want. Me? I prefer women in comfortable shoes, but that’s me.
I am notoriously “frugal.” Cheap might be a better word for it. Thrifty? Fiscally conservative? Sure, but most folks think I’m just cheap. Towards that end, the various versions of the dollar store places, different brands, some off-brands, some straight away knock-offs? Whatever it is? Yes, I like shopping there for some things. I have some cheap sunglasses, and at a buck a pop? Left behind, crushed, or loaned out? No problem, no loss. The other great find there? Single use super-glue. Four or five things in a dollar package. That stuff is miraculous. It passed its “use by” date. It is in a sealed package, and like most steep discounts, kind of a questionable item. I rarely by food at the cheap places, but something like the single use super-glue? Worked great. I had a minor repair, and it only required a single drop of super-glue. One of the five single-use units was compromised and unusable, but the next one in line? Worked just fine. Patched up. Ready to roll. Super-glue works, right? And at that price? Paid for itself. Turns out there are two or three uses in a year or two for those single-use tubes. Perfect. As a Virgo, I was looking for some super-glue to help hold a situation together. Might want to have some some cheap super-glue on hand, because, some days, it only requires a single drop. I got mine at the dollar store, maybe years ago.
astrofish.net/travel for appearances
“Nothing runs on automatic.” – L.W. “Bud” Shipley, Jr.