“But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?”
Richard in Shakespeare’s 3 Henry 6 (2.1.43)
Horoscopes for 4.28.2022
New Moon (partial eclipse) in Taurus, April 30, 3:29 PM at 10° of Taurus. At almost the exact same time, Venus and Jupiter align at 27° of Pisces. Mercury enters Gemini April 29. 5:42 PM. Venus enters the Tropical Zodiac Sign of Aries May 2, 11:11 AM (all times are approx.)
Flatonia, Texas: It’s a little town just off the interstate, maybe an hour east of here. Think: on the road from Houston to San Antonio. Little town in Texas with its typical little town eccentricities. At noon, I think it’s every day, there’s a test of the emergency siren. In the town’s diner, a place I can recommend, there was a deal posted about the first person the shout “Zombies!” as the siren is going off? First person to scream gets free coffee, or free sandwich, something. My notes are limited, and my memory is porous, at best. Free prize in every scream? The notion is combining the old, that town’s siren, with the new, the diner is a hipster place. Or hipster inspired. Or motivated. Post-Millennial, or, at the very least a mid-term millennial. Old and new. That siren has been tested every day since — long time. Useful for tornados, hurricanes, typical Texas weather, fires, floods, and so forth, along with the potential for a zombie attack. Have some fun with with this, it’s not all bad. That new Moon and its fallout? Adds to the weirdness. Use it.
I’m a notoriously cheap person. My first “book” included a shopping allusion, a certain retail giant that has sense fallen from favor, but shopping there, after 2 in the morning. While the relative pandemic reduced the number of 24-hour outlets, my notion of cheap lives on. In that vein? Easiest solution for Gemini, with nothing but Mercury in the best little mutable air sign?
Cheap super-glue. I get mine at the discount, bargain-bin, dollar-stores. There are, maybe a half-dozen “single-use” packages of the “super-glue” in the dollar package. This is far from an elegant, or permanent, or even slightly attractive solution, but as a stop-gap, save-the-moment, kind of gesture? It works, and it works well. I have piece of hardware, a keyboard, that is still held together, years later, by that cyanoacrylate compound. It has a distinctive aroma, and may different uses. To believe the movies? It can be used to stitch up gapping wounds, and in my Gemini-specific example? It can be a quick, effective solution to glueing a situation back together, if only for a short while. I get mine at the dollar store so it coasts a single dollar. It’s shelf life seems to be pretty good. Won’t fix everything, but right now? Gemini needs quick, easy, and cheap.
The way I see an astrology chart, let’s say, a Moon Child’s natal chart? I’ll see the cardinal material in Cancer, then other material in other signs. Different modalities, strange flavors and with that Cancer, Moon Child sign? I pay attention to the Moon Sign itself. Except for the Twenty-Eight degree mark, except for that? The pressure falls outside the purview of the Moon Children’s influence. However, there are other implications. Any fixed elements in the chart are getting rattled, and the late degrees of mutable pieces are shaken after a fashion, but shaken, not stirred. How this plays out is totally dependent upon how those other elements are under the command of the Crab in Charge. Spring has sprung, and summer is right around the corner. Other than the single good day to fish, what are we doing to get ready? Plant seeds, till the soil, whatever those other elements demand?
The voyage of discovery is what it’s all about. No better time to launch a new voyage than super new moon in the springtime? For The Leo a new adventure awaits, but I’d like to think of this in terms of books, libraries, and similar resources. The retail behemoth, amazon, always comes to my mind, as I use it for reviews. The reviews are usually quick, overly laudatory, and starred. But as a source, that gives me a quick way to assess whether a particular novel is worth tracking down, buying, renting, or even borrowing. I still love the notion of dusty bookstores with librarian-like characters pointing out what’s good. I’m at about half and half with that, some good recommendations and some that were not of my tastes. Factoring the Uranian nature of some of the influence? I’d go with the digital sources. But that’s me, and I’m not The Leo. Whatever it is that works? Go with that. Voyage of discovery.
“Every book is a voyage.”
Two words come to mind, for Virgo. One is “illusionary,” and the other is “visionary.” Herein is the problem, tangential Taurus elements are a boon, but the Pisces crap-fest? Painful? It’s about trying to decipher what the message is, and what’s a mere dream, wish, or just a silly hope, as opposed to what is real, factual, and possibly fruitful for the Virgo future. One is illusions and the other is true visions. How to tell them apart? Like a good Virgo, a little empirical testing might serve you best. “Kick the tires,” is the expression I like, although, in this era, there is nothing about real tire-kicking, but there is something about taking it for a test spin. Test that visionary hypothesis; see if it holds water like it should. See if holds air. See if it works. Test it, more than just kicking the tires, at least a trial run. If it works? Might be visionary. If it doesn’t hold up on trials? Probably illusory.
I don’t get why people like to add milk and sugar to coffee. In a recent novel, there was a character who was admonished to start drinking her coffee black because she wouldn’t have time for the niceties of cream and sugar. I understand that. Which part? Both parts. I enjoy a sugary confection beverage like a (something-something) latte, with its syrups and sugars, frothy full-fat milk, layered in. But it’s not something I would consume on a regular basis. I like coffee, black. I prefer a measured dosage, like two shots of espresso with a maybe a tablespoon or so of hot water. But my choices vary, depending on time, location, and other factors. With the tangential Taurus tugging at your Libra heartstrings? Think about expediency. “Coffee. Black. Please.”
Catch it correctly, in the springtime? This is an exciting experience. One of my fishing buddies, his logo is pirate skull over emblematic crossed fishing poles. I’m sure there are pictures on his website of something, but we had a monster of a good time, just the other afternoon. Morning. Up early, on the chilly spring water before the crack of doom, then as the sun burned through the haze, the fish were hitting, and it was one of those trips for the books. “Legends of the first cast.” Means the first cast, I launched a bait over yonder, and moments after the splash, there was a fish on. Lots of big fun for me. The trick is catching it correctly, and for Scorpio? This is a ticklish situation. The day before? No fish. The day after? No fish. Hit it correctly. The moments and minutes before that New Moon? It’s opposite from your good Scorpio self. Have to time correctly.
“Best place to catch me? Probably on social…” I’ll give you a hint, the best place to catch me? Not on social media. I’m not morally opposed to it, just find it to be too great a time-suck to be useful — in my mind. The Sagittarius mind needs some guide rails this next few days. My first notion was a “social media” guideline I used, some years back. I limited my browsing of the inter webs, like FaceBook and its familiars? I limited that to less than an hour in a week. Anymore, it’s too boring, and not useful for real contact. Doesn’t stop me from dumping my various feeds into their machinery, but it’s not my thing. It’s possible to find me there, but please allow a few weeks for me to respond to a communication delivered via social media. The tendency is for Sagittarius to get easily distracted and then follow a singular thread that might lead us nowhere. Like trying to follow me on “social….”
Looking at some coffee my family left behind, I was intrigued, albeit briefly, by the company’s brief “Our story” on its label. In previous years, this was contained, in my mind, as the “about” page. There was a time, when I would first land on a web page, I would check the “about” section. I wanted to know who was running it, what it was about, when it got started, and if it had a mission statement. Me? I’m pretty much a rudderless craft adrift in a sea of good intentions, attempting to navigate my way being guided by the stars. Some weeks are far better than others. What catches my attention, and what should catch the copious Capricorn attention? A brief mission statement. What it’s about. What’s the goal? Succinct mission statement is the Capricorn goal. Like that “about” page from days long gone by?
No added sugar. No artificial sweetener, either. While it certainly sounds like a rewind from the original fineprint, what I was thinking, there was a kind of fake sugar I toyed with. Substituted in a number of recipes, and while it was OK? There was a side-effect. After poking at various links online, I figured out that the stuff should be used in moderation, like, if a recipe called for a cup of sugar? Only use about about half a cup of the “all-natural” fake sugar. Digging deeper because something wasn’t adding up correctly? That particular all-natural sweetener also caused a mild but rapid evacuation of the bowels. It all started with an ice cream recipe. This is a week fraught with difficult angles for Aquarius. That means, in order to prevent that quick trip to the bathroom? Read the ingredients. Read about what those ingredients might do. Watch for the “allergic reactions” warnings. Substitutions are nice, but this might be a good week to avoid fake sugar.
Looking for solutions to problems that might, or might not, be real? I hit upon an idea, and I think this might work, next few days, what with everything flying around gentle Pisces. “Pick one.” It’s simple. Really simple. While nothing in the life of Pisces is ever going to be “binary,” as in a simple “either/or,” “black or white” decision? Nothing is ever going to be that simple, and despite my best efforts to reduce the complexity of the issues? No, it’s not going to be easy, but the quickest way to get your Pisces butt moving in a safe and relatively sane fashion? Pick one. Simplest solution to as series of complex, Pisces problems? “Pick one.”
I find it upsetting, and it’s a situation that you can correct, at least Aries can fix this. I can’t do anything with these disparate energies, but I’m not Aries. You are. You got this. It’s a simple fix, really, not nearly as complicated as some would have us believe. That’s part of my little secret; it’s about not overly complicating this situation — this thing you’re trying to fix. There’s a simpler solution, if you’ll take a breath, and examine the situation, ask yourself, “Aries, what are the pieces that I can fix?” This is a moment of self-reflection and the New Moon energy gives you a shot at this. Take a minute, take a half-a-beat, pause, for just a second, and try to figure out what are the broken pieces that you have the ability to fix. Makes it easier to work with what goals you can accomplish instead of setting yourself up with impossible desires and no way to resolve this.
What parts can you fix?