Horoscopes for 12-26-2023

“But this denoted a foregone conclusion.”

Shakespeare’s Othello 3.3.429

Horoscopes for 12-26-23

  • Full Moon 12/26/23 6:33 PM 4° Cancer
  • Mercury direct 1/1/24 22° Sag.
  • Sun enters Aquarius 1/21
  • Pluto enters Aquarius 1/21
  • Sun enters Pisces 2/20
  • Mercury 15° Aries
  • Sun enters Aries 3/21
  • Eclipse 3/25 12° Ari./Lib.
  • Mercury RX 4/2 27° Aries
  • Eclipse 4/8 19° Ari.
  • Sun enters Taurus 4/20
  • Mercury Direct 4/25 15° Aries
  • Sun enters Gemini 5/21
  • Jupiters enters Gemini 5/26
  • Sun enters Cancer 6/21
  • Mercury at 21° Leo 7/17
  • Sun enters The Leo’s sign 7/23
  • Mercury RX 4° Virgo
  • Sun enter Virgo 8/23
  • Mercury direct 21° Leo 8/28
  • Eclipse 9/18 26° Vir./Pis.
  • Sun enters Libra 9/23
  • Eclipse 10/2 9° Libra
  • Sun enters Scorpio 10/23
  • Mercury 6° Sag. 11/8
  • Sun enters Sagittarius 11/22
  • Mercury RX 22° Sag. 11/27
  • Mercury Direct 12/15 6° Sag.
  • Sun enters Capricorn 12/22
  • On Sale Now!

(All times are local, as they say, “your mileage may vary,” see the fineprint for details)


CapricornThere’s a fiery yet oddly reminiscent aura to the next year, for gentle Capricorn. As I started to sketch out the details, and looking for over-arching patterns, the element of fire, and its buddy, passion seemed most prominent, with an echo related to the earth signs, and notably, Capricorn. The middle of the year, there’s a Mercury Retrograde that starts in Virgo (earth) but ends in Leo (fire). As this year starts and then as the year unfolds along its designated, fated routes, and as the planets course their ways along, etching out fates? There is a theme, and it’s easiest to see in the end-of-summer Mercury Retrograde, starting in Virgo, and ending in Leo, but for Capricorn? This is about not oversharing. It’s about remembering that if asked a question? “Yes,” “no,” and “maybe” are perfectly succinct answers that need no embellishment. I’ve found a gentle shrug, and demur look, glancing sideways and downward helps instead of opening my big mouth and saying too much. Mr. Mercury pushes you to say too much. If a simple answer will work? Keep it at that.

“I probably didn’t need to tell you the whole story.” Sort of. “I probably don’t need to too tell you the whole story.” There it is.


There will always be an issue with formatting. No matter what format I adopt? No matter what style sheet I think is best? No matter what I do, or the decisions I make? It is all subject to change. Might be something big, might be something small. A few years back I finally figured out that the date format, like 12.26.23, as much as I liked that? The backend display apparatus, the software that runs this place? It chews up dates like that and adds or subtracts numbers, spaces, and punctuation. I went back to a standard “/“ (slash).

The issue about formats and dates popped up again as I started working with both software and a book, to set up the important dates for the year ahead. What format for the dates? End of the entry? Starts of the one? Someplace in the middle? I wasn’t sure, but I let this fall in my own intuitive pattern, which might not work for anyone else, but it does display the relative data, and I now know what’s where, when, in the following year. About the only real structure that I’ve managed to maintain is the names for the signs themselves, and everything else keeps shifting around. As an Aquarius, you would really like it if there was just one “style sheet” for the coming year, but the way I see it? Probably not, Be aware that all the data will be there, but the way that data is displayed might change.


I watched as a neighbor, this was a few years back, but I observed, offering my oral support, such as it is, while he and one his sons built a rock walkway, going from the back get to the front drive. Wasn’t more than a couple of dozen feet in length, artfully curved around the bushes that hide the AC unit. But watching the effort put into the home repair project? First they excavated the walkway’s path, like scooped out rocks and soil to a depth of a foot, then packed in a layer of sand, then mixed a cement and poured a layer of that, and finally, set the flagstone, really just large limestone shard, set those all in place, surrounded by some kind of mortar. Digging the pathway down, layering sand and cement, then carefully puzzling together the shards made for a strong, long-lasting walkway. More ornamental than useful, in my non-Pisces mind. It’s the preparatory work, and then, the multitude of steps, digging the hole, sand then concrete, then the artisan effort to puzzle together the top layer? All set in cement? That’s the clue. Dig the whole, fill in layers of foundation elements, then carefully lock in that top layer. You’re building a solid structure in Pisces, but one must have those foundation elements. Watching them work? I’m a lazy Sagittarius, I could watch them work all day long — but I’m not a working Pisces.


There are two bracket-looking bulges on the bottom of the iconic Chemex coffee-maker. Could be a trademark, a manufacturing flaw, or some other arcane symbolism. Lore, posted elsewhere, but the understanding I have, that the original engineer, as he shaped the special glassware, he knew that many people would leave the Chemex carafe on a stove’s burner, and to more evenly assimilate the excess heat, to prevent burnt coffee? Those little brackets were added to glassware’s bottom. Just looks like two, maybe an inch or so tall, offset L shapes, or >< something like that. Or originally a European device, as I understand the myth, the post-war world used a number of electric hot plates, and that was what the little brackets did. Then, too, there’s the story that it has to do with the way the glassware was made, and it’s just a function of manufacture. I’m sure a quick search would reveal the true nature, plus a host of coffee-conspiracy theories, warning about global warming, and the rise of the machines. That went dark, in a hurry, huh, Aries? From “I wonder what this is,” to “we’re all doomed,” in a single question. This week, and as a plan for the year ahead? Careful of falling down a single rabbit hole that turns into a rabbit’s warren of useless facts that might, or might not, have any bearing on the outcome of the Life of Aries.

“But I need to know!” (Methinks “an Aries doth protest too much,” with apologies.)


Last week, I implied Taurus to “Wait until next year.” The scopes roll out on “Boxing Day,” a quaint day that falls after Xmas in the northern, European tradition. Might be Celtic, Irish or Scottish, I’m not sure of the source. But the idea, backed by years and years of research, documentation, and supporting data? Wait until after January 1 to start again. You’ll be happier that way, and all I want to do is make you happy. A happy Taurus is best served if you wait until next year. Looking at next year? It will be so much easier, for Taurus. Still weird, be easier.


How do you filter information? That’s a valid question, and point worth looking into, especially about how the Gemini mind filters sensory input. Data — as in data acquisitionGemini data acquisition. That’s the big question, and to add to this, as further thinking point, more a question than an answer? How to filter all that incoming data? I used to use a news-reader, and I carefully curated the feeds it would pick up. I’m sensitive to extremist news, so I would filter the far right and the far left. Finding centrist feeds is a challenge, but then, I concentrate on arts, entertainment, fishing, old cafe racers, and other hobby-like activities, and that makes this work better. It’s about that Gemini filter and how you are going to pick and choose the material you want to feed your head. I’m also partial to books, but I like it when a fiction, escape-thriller, murder-mayhem author gives me something extra to think about. Filters, and that’s what the upcoming year is about, adjusting, modifying, and then, adjusting again whatever filters you’re going to use.


Pause, stop, assess. Maybe, dear Cancer? Just maybe, for the usually lustrous Moon Children, this isn’t a time to move. It’s more a time to stop and figure out that not-quite-the-end, but surely not another new beginning, again? Time to pause, stop, slow down, and take an assessment. Look, new year, new you, same old world, but there are numerous opportunities on the immediate horizon, but to take advantage of those openings? Here in the Home of the Crab, gentle Cancer? Take a moment, take a pause, slow down for just a few beats, and during that slow phase? Assess where you’re at. Plan, plot, maybe, don’t proceed just yet. Pause, plan, plot, but don’t proceed. Yet.

The Leo

This next year, and starts now, but this next year for The Leo? I like the description of how I prepare food. I cook. I don’t bake. Baking is an exact science, whereas my cooking? Some of this, a little of that, maybe try a smidgen of a different spice? I use guidelines when I cook, what looks good, tasting as I go, seeing what works. When others fix food, I’ll observe flavors and spice pallets, but this is about what I like, and what The Leo likes. I used to get a Cajun brand spice, great stuff, but over the years , I finally got close to duplicating that stuff myself. Two basic ingredients, cayenne and garlic. The trick is there’s just a tiny dose of garlic and it’s mostly pepper, but getting the correct ratio? I’m not sure, but I know if there’s a pan in front of me, like a thin coat of cayenne and sprinkle of garlic. That’s the difference between cooking and baking. This next year, this next week, we’re experimenting, trying to duplicate good results and in order to get those results? Have to adjust as we go along. The Leo, nota bene: It’s not an exact science.


In the next year, there are three seasons — as indicated by Mercury’s periods — when dear Virgo is tempted to “Stir the pot.” You do know which pot I’m talking about, right? That one? Yes, and you’re tempted, sorely tempted, like even now, to stir that cauldron full of bile, and boils, troubles, and whatnot, you’re sorely tempted to add some fiery pepper, some bitter roots, and make a bad situation much, much worse. I applaud that desire, and it’s not like I’m not tempted as well, but I have the benefits of years of applied observations, and what that means? It means the stick, or more likely, like a good Virgo, the spoon that you would use to stir that pot? That cauldron of mess, fuss, and problems? Angst and other issues? Maybe you don’t want to lick the spoon. Or the stick. Whatever it is. Plus, just as a reminder, stirring that pot just makes all of this worse, and harder to see the good in there, if it gets all riled up. I mean, if it gets all stirred up.


A friend forwarded me a picture of some urban graffiti, the name “Kramer” in stylized urban tagging style, on an extended manhole cover. It looked, I mean, I missed the imagery at first glance, but it looked like a cover to the underground tunnels around Austin. I finally figured out it was my name, or what looked like my name, and it wasn’t me, as I don’t tag anything, but then, I got to thinking. Middle of the winter, right? Hades, if I have it right, has Persephone underground in his lair. She spends six months with him, then six months being all love, light, and fruit trees above ground. In respect to Libra, Persephone’s journey, and that underground entrance, it’s merely an allegorical, mythological explanation for the seasons. Stands up to the test, and that’s part of what this is about. We’re also in the darkest, meanest, most dour time for poor Libra because it is dark out. Mercury, Capricorn, and so forth? Best use of this week, and the year ahead? We’re biding time until things change. The emergence of Persephone will be soon enough, and then? Back to Libra love and light.


There’s something about the yoga people. Mostly, the ones I see? All female. But the yoga people have a way to translate the spiritual energy, the loose and uncollected ends, the frayed and nervous juice floating aimlessly along, the yoga people can take that and channel it into whatever bendy, stretchy thing is they do. Not my thing — I don’t get it, but as a good Scorpio? You do get it, and you understand. There’s a loose affiliation of raw endings that can be properly directed to exercise, and I’m unsure how that comes out, individually, but collectively? It’s like a good yoga class for the whole sign. I got started on this, one yoga person a I know, a lot older than me? Still very attractive, and that’s part of the Scorpio appeal. Then again? It’s always the pretty people who say, “Looks don’t matter.”


The Arabs said about coffee: 1st cup is hospitality, 2nd enjoyment, 3rd third for the sword. I kept looking, and all I could find was historical references to the Arab aphorism, and no real definition. I tend to be nicer after that third cup of coffee. Not required, just nicer. Plus, I would have to point out, that’s me. I might not be the target audience with this question. Besides, an Arabic aphorism, possibly poorly translated, its original intent might be lost on a non-Arab speaker like myself. Still, 1st cup is hospitality, 2nd cup is enjoyment, and that third one? For me, it’s the required juice to get me through. When Mercury is retrograde, like it is in Sagittarius? I favor coffee, a socializing yet solo beverage, and I prefer it in bulk. Quantity over quality. Looking at what’s left of this year? Quantity, in bulk if possible, is better than a single refined one.

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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