Horoscopes for 10-24-23

“I do believe it
Against an oracle.”

Ferdinand in Shakespeare’s The Tempest (4.1.11-2)

Horoscopes for 10-24-23

  • 10/28/23 Lunar eclipse at 4° Scorpio/Taurus


Scorpio Textual aversion? I figure this comes from living and working at the forefront of digital content delivery. As such, other than an exchange with the current girlfriend, I’m pretty much opposed to texting, messaging, or any other form of instant delivery. If I don’t have your phone number on file, then the call probably gets ignored. With the Scorpio eclipse action unfolding? What this is about? Kind of two points, I guess, one is about making sure that the message goes through, like, that I have your number if you’re calling. Otherwise, we’ll miss each other. The other part? Textual aversion to certain perceived forms of communication. I was out there on the forefront, and I’ve done this for years, sort of hybrid cross between “them” and “us,” and since there’s no clear line? Stick to what works best, for your Scorpio self, whatever for that takes, but textual aversion? That’s a thing.


“Just a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind, and high standards.” It’s tag line and I’ve seen it applied all the way around the zodiac, to each and every sign. In a way, it sort of fits, and it’s one of those universals lines that can be applied, as need be, to each sign, depending on circumstances. But Sagittarius can be a hopeless romantic, and I’ve included that, over the years, as part of the definition of who we are. That represents that Sagittarius energy, quite well.

As a universal truism, we can apply that little ditty, to our Sagittarius selves, just for the time being. Next few days, this Full Moon, the eclipse, and all that? We’re good people, but if we’re not overly cautious and unusually careful? We’re going to wind up in the wrong place at the most inconvenient time. Shrug. What are going to say?

“Just a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind and high standards?”


Not to brag or anything, but I can forget what I’m saying as I’m saying it. That’s a problem and this eclipse cycle? So easy to forget what, wait, where was I going? See what I mean? There’s a destination, a very Capricorn destination in mind, and that is subject to the whims of the fates and the furies. Not sure which one it is that gets us led astray, but there’s one, or more than one, distraction. Not bad, and some days, the detour is more important than the original, stated destination. Personally, I’m big proponent of the expression, “That’s not where I was going, but here we are.” I don’t get where I thought I was going, but I do get to where I belong. My meandering, apparently rudderless and flawed navigation systems don’t always work, but there are times, and this is one of those times, when those routes do work. This week in Capricorn? Might not get where you wanted to go, but you do wind up where you’re supposed to be.


Over the years, I’ve experimented with a number of ways to prepare food. Some days, it’s just too much trouble to get out of the house, and I can cook a quick repast in the frying pan. It’s an old, well-seasoned, cast-iron skillet. Sometimes, I grease it with bacon grease, but more recently, it’s been a little dab of coconut oil. What I added? Smidgen of coffee dust from the grinder. After I clean the pan, and let some oil soak in a bit? I’ll add a pinch of the fine dust from the coffee grinder. This imparts a slightly nutty taste, helps with browning meats and vegetables, and adds a certain, otherwise undefined, flavor component. It adds a complex flavor profile that wouldn’t otherwise be present. I am no great chef, not really that good of a cook, either, but I do have a few tricks. Coffee dust in the bottom of the frying pan. This is a weird note to some, but as Aquarius sails through this eclipse season? It’s a weird trick, one weird trick like my coffee dust in the bottom of the pan, one strange action that makes it all palatable.


It was a younger woman, in my own vagaries? I’d call her a young lady with a smattering of tattoos crawling up and down her arms, and then? While not alluringly low-cut, she did have a blouse that was partially open revealing a fish tail of some sort, apparently diving down between her breasts. She was, at the time, the hostess in restaurant, and as she gathered menus and place settings, I had to ask, nosy little beggar that I am, “Pisces?” “Yeah, how did you know?” Years of doing this, an intuitive hit, and merely a good — educated — but good guess on my part. The tat was rather provocative in an almost harmless way. I’m not sure I wanted to see more. But this is about obvious choices, and intuitive hits that lead to a simple question, and that simple question then verifies the intuitive hit. If that’s not happening? Like, if she’d said, “No?” Then we make a simple Pisces course correction.

“So what’s your birthday?”


Winter mornings, think, December, January, maybe part of February here in South Texas? Winter mornings, as I boil water for coffee? That’s when I like to work at the kitchen table. Over the period of the day, I’ll chase the sunlight around the house, like a cat, looking for that warm, sunny spot, to nap, meditate, or work. November is a bit too summer-like still, and that’s a problem, as I want to be adapting to more winter-like habits, but it’s just not that cold. All depends. But I live below the 29th. Not quite the Tropic of Cancer, but further south than most. My own conditions don’t matter, this is the shift to winter rules, or the conditions that change with the seasons. Personally, I’d prefer a Halloween-Thanksgiving-Xmas generic holiday decoration that would cover them all, and that’s an idea to pursue, for Aries. A single decoration for all three? Add New Year, too? Realize we’re just shifting material around, to accommodate the seasons.


Besides Shakespeare, there are two main texts I refer to, really defer to, when times are weird (like this). In translations, of course. One is the stoic Marcus Aurelius, and the other is Zen Flesh, Zen Bones. Sometimes that is marketed as 101 Zen Stories, so the mileage may vary. With all the Taurus activity, though, it’s hard to catch a meditative break to figure this out. But as a suggestion? Grab a copy of whatever meditative text you use. One buddy uses a new translation of the Bible. That works, too. I don’t care. The point is to take a quick glance, and for me, with this weird stuff floating around? I’ll grab my well-thumbed Meditations, look until I find a short aphorism,, read it, write it down, and then motor on through the rest of the day. It’s a simple, effective tool for helping Taurus figure the way forward. Don’t get too attached one outcome, might change. It’s the fickle nature of the lunar cycle, no?


This is about the spookiest launch to a halloween weekend — ever. In all Gemini recorded time, this is the best, or the worst. Maybe a little of both? All depends on how you decide to accept what happens. Good attitude but prepared? I like that as a process, and I’ve found it a remarkably effective way to deal with exigent energies all over the place, demand, and reversals. Typically, a number of the real problems are more mythical and lack substance, except, at the moment they appear, too real. Problems might be more wraith-like than substantial. Play this against a background of approach of the Fall Festival season, All Saints’ Day, Dia de las Muertos, Halloween, and Samhain? Emotions will run high. Think that this is a time, this year, this season, this week? Everyone gets to be a Gemini, so there’s the balance between the Evil Twin, and the Angel. Which will it be? Plus? Everyone’s like this, not just a normal Gemini.


A machine can pull an espresso shot, like the big chains do, with their automated grind, pack, pour devices. Perfect water temperature, perfect grind, and the only missing element? The human touch. Back in old Austin I used to watch as a young man ground the beans, packed them into the espresso basket, then tamp its down, sweep excess fine-ground coffee dust off the top of the basket, then add a second light layer of beans, sort of a double-packing. While marginally wasteful, I didn’t see this action reiterated until I was in London, watching a Spanish lass pack fresh-ground beans into an espresso basket, tamping it down and brushing away the excess. May be a little wasteful, but I’ll suggest a hand-packed shot beats the machines any day.

As the Moon Children, the Cancer slice of the heavens, as these lunar and solar astrological events unfold? Have to ask, what is the source of the information about which one tastes better, and have you done a recent comparison? Taste a machine-made espresso, then taste a hand-poured shot. Tell me if you can actually taste a difference. I can, but that might be my bias, cf. confirmation bias.

The Leo

A fresh lead holder, a pencil, is there anything as comforting? It was a list of “things I am grateful for,” and what popped into my mind, first and foremost? I just started toting a pencil, actually it’s a lead-holder, around with me. It’s special kind of comfort, and I don’t use it for much, a few stray notes, a glyph for the current sign (Scorpio), and maybe a random phone number or e-mail address. Some kind of marker, and occasionally, a sketch of an idea, most often a simple wireframe design. The mechanical pencil, as a writing instrument, has been with me all my life.

I like it.

I prefer it, some days, and fresh lead-holder with a new, soft lead in it? Is there anything as joyous? It’s a simple tool, not complicated, no complexity whatsoever to this idea, and therein is the clue for the Leo happiness during the Scorpio lunation. It’s the simple things. Not complicated, a single item gratitude list.


It was supposed to be “molé,” and I’m not sure, but what I tasted? Cacao and cayenne. At that moment, a big smile spread across my face, looking at my date, as this was an exceptional find. The place with the cuisine — already had my date. Her find. Whatever. The notation was “Cayenne and Cacao.” Instead of sweet? It was a white hot, dark chocolate layer of Tex-Mex goodness. One buddy, not a Virgo, considers that good molé is the signature taste test of TexMex, any Southwestern cuisine joint. This one passed rather well. The first bite, that first taste was exemplary, and only got better. Not so hot as to cause a burn, but certainly enough heat to properly announce itself, and that’s then tempered with chocolate goodness, that hints of herbs and spices, but retains its essential chocolate texture.


Change is inevitable. We get to a place where we either accept that change is ongoing, or we can live in a state of deep denial. Either one works, but the avoidance of the core Libra issue is problematic, at best. At worst? The problems bubble up again. I was in the back of the boat, and I was a “no fish catching fool” to the guy, my buddy, in the front of the boat. There was gentle ribbing, and we parked alongside a feeding frenzy, shad bubbling up and the big, hungry bass chasing those bait fishes. My buddy, in the space of three minutes, caught three fish, dragging a topwater across the late summer frenzy. I used the same kind of lure, same location, and I caught nothing. To be fair, I did get a few strikes, but this were half-hearted attempts by well-fed bass. The Libra question? I can live with not catching anything despite the same location, the same tackle, an identical kind of arrangement, because that’s fall fishing. I’m in a boat on the lake, celebrate the good. I have to understand that I can’t always catch the most, or biggest fish.

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About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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