What? Shall we curse the planets of mishap
That plotted thus our glory’s overthrow?
Or shall we think the subtile-witted French
Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,
By magic verses have contriv’d his end?
- Duke of Exeter in Shakespeare’s Henry 6 pt 1 act 1 sc 1
The summer solstice — when the sun moves into the Tropical Zodiac Sign of Cancer? June 20, 11 PM, local.
For years, I was obsessed with the Tiny Homes movement. Perfect for a much younger person. I toyed with the idea of a tiny home in the backyard, as a “Mother-in-Law” rental unit, what they’re called, “mother-in-law” set-up. The notion is not without merit, but the troubles one of my buddies had with renting his trailer in the backyard? Then, once it all got caught up in the legal side? Taxes. Then, too, follow this, Gemini, the images on the web, the various media outlets with the tiny homes, all with a lone coffee cup, one plate in the dish rack, a single hand-towel in the bathroom? How practical is that in real life? Gets to a point, I’m not clambering up and down the stairs — or a ladder — in the middle of the night. The Tiny Houses I’ve stayed in, as a guest? Realistically? There’s enough space to make some coffee, perhaps perform more basic cleaning rituals, and that’s about it. Not complaining, just being realistic. Look: Happy birthday and all, I love you the most, etc., but realistically? Can you really fit that Gemini lifestyle into such a small space?
Me? I got no excuse. I passed out early, really tired, and I woke up in the predawn twilight, unsure of where I was, or who I was. Got up to take a walk, fetch some fresh-squeezed coffee buds. Legs rolled, down the hill, and then, starting up the next hill, I was unsure of my decision to roust so early. But it was so nice out, wan zephyrs gently stirring the almost-cool temperature, the summer’s onslaught of day had yet to materialize. In the morning darkness, a faint glimmer of the sun approaching the horizon, I could see bats skittering and weaving drunkenly in the night’s sky, wandering off to a safe place to bed down before daylight. When it’s really still, early morning? I can hear the bats, so it seems. Left over memories of bats and old Austin, living in a trailer park close to the now-famous “Bat Bridge.” But most critical? For the sensitive Moon Children, the Cancer people? Listen, observe, and stir forth before anyone else. That’s the little secret ingredient to making this a better day for the soon-to-be birthday people. Up and out early, even though, in my case, there wasn’t a fishing pole involved. Still, worth it.
“Forgive and forget,” that’s the typical words of advice. Yeah, not going to try and peddle that crap to The Leo. One I was fond of, “Forgive, but don’t forget.” Finally there’s a third version that worked out just for you, “Forgive, but before you do? Remember that they thought they could get away that, and they tried to, first.” Little indistinct with the grammar. The message is then same, the folks begging for forgiveness thought they could get away with whatever it was that they got caught with? For? Anyway, they are asking for forgiveness, but only because they got caught. Couple of pointers, remember that when next person comes up and starts with, “I need to tell you about something I kind of did….” Hat in hand, so to speak. This is about the larger-than-life, magnanimous nature of The Leo. That’s tested and to some, stress-tested. So plan on forgiving, but maybe not forgetting. Or, plan on forgiving, and remembering, they thought they could get away that, in the first place.
For close to a month now, I’ve been wrestling with a decision. On the surface, this looks like a basic, binary problem, a simple, “Yes,” or, “no,” would suffice. Binary, right? Yes/No. On/Off. Hot/Cold. Light/Dark. It’s a $20 product, certainly not worth the amount of consternation and mental arguing I’ve thus endured. And yet? The question remains. Not much as something that I need, but it would be a handy replacement, an adjunct to the current set of tools. But do I want more ephemera cluttering my life? I’m interested in less crap, not more crap. I collect books from certain authors, but even then, I’ve grown far more circumspect about which authors I hold onto, and what I tend to see as either disposable (resell), or better, library books. Makes life easier, less is more. More or less. Which never got around to answer to the question I’ve been wrestling with for a month — or more. Can I make do without? Yes, but the product is more elegant. Looking at the way the planets array themselves? I can tell, for me, I’ll be another few weeks on this decision process, where the process outweighs the decsion itself. As a Virgo, are you stuck with a similar conundrum? Yes/No? Follow what I’m doing, and hold off. Never hurts to vacillate and wait, dear Virgo.
The stars align, or really, misalign? The stars misalign in a way that has a simple message. Simplest is best. Strip away at the excess, the outside, the extraneous, and see what is left. Simplest is best. Example? Perfect example? I have, perhaps, a half-dozen coffee-extraction systems available. Couple of stove-top espresso pots, a handful of French-Presses in a variety of sizes, dainty porcelain pour-over funnels, an intricate steam-punk funnel apparatus, and other plain coffee pots. What I’ve been using the most? A simple, plastic funnel for an equally simple pour-over, which then sits atop a single large mug. Grind beans, boil water, and in minutes I’m good to go. More or less. Beans are an issue, and grinders, yeah, from a simple “spice” grinder to a fancy motor-driven burr grinder with its exacting exactitude? But simple is best. For Libra, desire, and the ability to articulate numerous coffee making principles, profundities, and ephemera? The simplest answer is the best. Simple answers are best. This morning, for Libra? “Dude, no, dude, just put a cup in the microwave and nuke up some instant. That’s the quickest way.”
Simple enough, I think, at least, simple enough for Scorpio. What I suggest, take those old pains, the hurts, the emotional trauma? Push it down. Bury it deep in your soul. Hide it.
After the loquacious and incessantly communicative, but ultimately useless Mercury Retrograde in Gemini, what we’ve learned? Tell-all is not attractive. Therefore, and I’m thinking just for Scorpio, especially with the Uranus and Saturn material pushing like it is? Bury that pain, that angst, that emotional garbage because, what comes next? Push that material down far enough, wait long enough, and suddenly, to the correct person, in the best situation, that hurt and pain, you’ve held onto for so long? That hurt and pain is suddenly an attractive quality. Hold on until that emotional burden is attractive. We can revisit this later, if need be.
In Austin, I saw three “hundred year floods” in the span of a decade. So far, I’ve experienced two or three global events that “changed everything,” and should be considered a once in a lifetime kind of event. So personal tragedy, loss, love, and life goes on. Ever onward, and to follow our archer’s arrow? A trajectory that ever arches upward. On the British Museum’s website, they had a number of images online. Personally, I was looking for some images of the treasure from the Sutton Ho, a near perfect Viking Burial site. What I stumbled across, though, was a simple tile from Roman England, or thereabouts, and it was a centaur with a bow and arrow, arrow nocked and in firing position, the centaur himself, looking back across his horse’s body, with the understanding that he wasn’t just firing behind him, but trying to vanquish an unseen Sagittarius foe. That it stood for the constellation, and the astrological sign Sagittarius, there was no question. The artwork from the museum’s collection, as a tile, I’m pretty sure that figure was aiming backwards so its image would fit in the allotted space. As this week moves, maybe not forward, but gets into gear, one way or another? We can’t spend too much time looking backwards. Worked in ancient Roman London. Might not work today. Forward, upwards, onward. Not backward.
This summer’s solstice is marked with that pesky Mercury Retrograde and its fallout, combined with Mars pounding its way into Leo, exacerbated by Uranus and Saturn doing their tango, yet again. Venus is in Cancer, this week. A piece of British fiction I was enjoying mentioned a term that new to me, “Moscow Rules.” It was British spy stuff, think, like Ian Fleming’s 007, only updated and modernized, grittier. The term, “Moscow Rules,” refers to the underwritten and never spoken ideal that one must always “cover one’s arse,” in the quaint British author’s tone. I’m good with that. The term kept ringing in my own head until I realized there was an echo — astrological reverberation — for Capricorn. The term, bantered about amongst a certain select group of highly-trained operatives who worked on counter-counter-counter-espionage in series after series of British books? Means one should be looking our for one’s self, or one who’ll be looking over one’s shoulder, or any number of similar terms. For Capricorn, as the beginning of the Cancer season starts to unfold? Think, in quaint British novel language, “Moscow Rules.”
Digital house-keeping is important. Trying to figure out why one machine was running so slow, taking what felt like eons to perform a simple software function? I started poking, it was up-loading and down-loading thousands of personal images I stored, over the years. Some kind of arcane backup, and I don’t recall ever setting that all in motion. Had my signature on the work, though, those were my pictures, mostly images of fish, but whatever. At the beginning of the digital image era, I would carefully just take a few picture because storage was a premium, and I was ruined by a film photographer who had to pay for film. However, as I progressed and storage got exponentially cheaper, I started taking three, four, maybe five or six images instead of one. In case? In case I was shaky, one didn’t work correctly, one was good but slightly off-center? Large numbers cover a multitude of mistakes. But now? five or six images of a fish, or sign, or something that I found amusing in the moment? That’s way too many, and this is about digital house-keeping. Middle of the long, hot summer, and as the Sun moves into the Sign of the Crab, time to think about that digital house-keeping. Do you need five nearly identical images of the same fish?
With the approach of yet another astrological storm? Best we get prepared. One of my professional associates was lecturing, next room over, and all I caught? “Medicate, medicate, medicate.” What she was really intoning? “Meditate, meditate, meditate.” What I’m suggesting, the best way for a good Pisces like yourself to get ready? Combine those two. Meditate — medicate — meditate. That would be my preferred point of balance, yours might vary, but the essential elements are there. For an old man like me to sit in any kind of meditative position, some kind of analgesic is usually required. If I am to spend, say, 40 minutes on the floor, crossed-legged, then I’ll also need 500 mg of some Non-Steroid-Anti-Inflammatory-Drug. Not every time, but it helps with the creaking joints as I try to arise. I might not bend as well as I used to. So the idea of Meditate — medicate — meditate has definite merit. For Pisces? Weeks ahead, get ready with whatever system seems to work, but as an idea? Start practicing now.
For a certain kind of fishing, along the bays of Gulf Coast, I found a special “lake lure” that proved highly effective. Just a chunk of silver-colored metal, usually with a small hook at one end. Those treble hooks are attached by a small split ring, like a tiny keyring. For my favorite spot along the bay, I found that the little, lightweight lure, with a slightly larger hook on it, that proved to be a near-perfect combination for all manner of bay fishing. Small enough that the little dock fishing was OK, and the tiny bait fish would attack that as I dragged it through the water, but the bigger hooks I installed? Even larger fish, further out in the water, or across the bay, and behind the barrier island, even there, worked great with larger game fish like big sea trout, and reds. It’s a knock-off “Cast Master” with larger, better quality treble hook used to replace the existing little hook. Not really a saltwater lure, I think that’s why it works so well, but it also requires the larger hook to be most effective. Not sure how that changes the aerodynamics, or the submerged action, but it does attract fish. Trick is, attaching the larger hook. Those little split rings are hard to manipulate and I wind up tearing up my nails. Is it worth it? Yes. Aries, is it worth it?
One of my favorite morning images is a single bay boat, pulling out of the marina, pink dawn just cresting the Gulf horizon. Oranges, shades and variation, magenta, the sun starting to bruise a night’s sky, and then? Water as smooth as can be, little boat slicing through the morning stillness and calm, roaring towards a favorite fishing spot. Calm, serene, and the best part? The water still as can be, in other nautical terms? Becalmed. Love mornings like that, love the nature, the calm, the stillness of the water’s surface, and then? Any venture that begins so easily? What’s missing from that morning image? Calm mornings like that mean the wind kicks up by noon, and when we’re headed back in, the waves are rough. Not necessarily uncomfortable but one recent trip? Got beat up pretty badly on the long run back to the dock. Fair amount of chop after launching under near-ideal conditions. There is a some definite chop, depsite how perfect things look right now. Enjoy the calm, the wind is going to kick up soon.