“And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven,
The pale-fac’d moon looks bloody on the earth,
And lean-look’d prophets whisper fearful change”
Welsh Captain in Shakespeare’s Richard II (II.iv.10-2)
Horoscopes for 7-8-2025
(Previous mentions 2.21.2019 & 5.19.1997).
Find me in July…
- Full Moon 7/10
Horoscopes for 7-8-2025
Cancer
The Moon fills out and brings promises of resolution. You get paid back, you receive the final toll, all debts are served. Sounds good, but this occurs more along the lines of a cosmic scale rather than a financial setting. Could be both. If it is both, or financial in nature? Cut me in. Thanks! Otherwise, let’s look at goals, Cancer destinations, and probable outcomes for what’s up with this Lunar Phase. One of my nicknames for the sign of the crab is The Moon Children — or some variation upon that theme. So the Moon is a player, and the Full Moon (in Capricorn) tends to dry out the watery nature of the Moon-infused sign of the crab. Think in terms of short-term gain weighed out against long-term gain. As a fire sign myself, I have trouble thinking past today, but as a celebrated Birthday Cancer? The longer-term gain is where it’s at. There’s promises of resolution, make it so it will certainly resolve in your favor.
Cancer: The Moon fills out and brings promises of resolution.
The Leo
It’s a real story. I didn’t say it was factual, or honest, or true, but it really was a story. I got hung up on the phrasing, “It’s a real story.” That implies truth, but is it really true? I just look for information than can be corroborated via independent sources. It’s not too much to ask. Or is it?
The Leo should watch out for slick-talking salesman types who promise, cajole, cavort, and otherwise imply that this is a better product with no supporting data. It’s a real story, like, a story that might a chronological telling of a series events that might be factual, or might sound factual, when in fact, they are not. But is it still a “Real Story?”
“It’s a real story.”
Virgo
My sister sent me a bag of specialty, artisanal, ergonomic, single-source coffee. Great stuff, but the first small pot I made, I did with my usual quantities, and the brew looked weak. More like tea than coffee. So for the next pot, I doubled the amount of ground beans. The coffee turned out like it was supposed to, dark, rich, bubbling oily-goodness, and strong. Perhaps it was too strong, and the darker roasts I’m used to working with? The much lighter roast caused a problem. I was sampling out of a two-ounce espresso cup, and after about three cups, I was flying. Strong brew, and when I made it double-strength? I don’t know what the upper limit on caffeine in a single serving of coffee might be, but this was really over-cooking my brain. Mars is like that. I doubled the amount to get the color I liked, or what I thought it should look like, and then? I was wired. With Mr. Mars in Virgo? Maybe don’t double the recipe.
You’re already flying and frying.
Libra
“Stick to the plan.” Simple as that. What I do? I’m not Libra, but I like Libra, like, a lot. What I’ll do, and it’s a good example, I’ll sketch out an overall plan, just rough numbers, mostly just bullet points in the plan, not granular, inch-by-inch, or worse, millimeter by bleeding millimeter ideas and steps, just a few larger targets. Make it easier. “First we empty it out. Then we clean it. Then we fill it back up.” Simple, three basic steps. That doesn’t include the two different scrubbers and then the sanitizing layer before filling it back up, no, none of the details, just three broad steps. Think in large, easy-to-hit targets. Simple steps. Not too finite in detail.
“Stick to the plan.”
Scorpio
Early in my career with writing these horoscopes, I called the various astrological asteroids “Pea gravel in the heavens.” I stand by that expression, as there’s a bunch of that interstellar pea gravel in Scorpio, but the influences I would address are different. That doesn’t stop that cosmic pea gravel from being a minor irritant, and what that minor irritation is about? It serves to help add a focal point to the otherwise broad, directionally-challenged Scorpio attention. Find the source of the minor irritant? The simplest example is tiny “something” embedded in sock, sort of rubbing a spot on my foot, or the Scorpio foot, and you peel the shoes and socks off, shake them out, and there’s nothing. It was small bit of thread in just the wrong place. Put the socks and shoes back on, and yet, there’s still an irritation.
Takes two or three tries, but you’ll get it.
Sagittarius
“Everything is good.” I adore some of my professional associates, but the notions that get bantered about? “Everything is good for Sagittarius!” Cool. For me, personally? I understand the whims of the planets, and what they mean, so I have a delicate grasp on the possible directions. I get it, and I understand the source of the “Everything is good” idea, for Sagittarius. A little voice in the back of my head, though, and you should hear this one, too, “but is it, really?” What this is about, to make it so “Everything is good!” To make it like that? There’s a certain management of one’s resources, a way to direct this flow of energy, and the way this pushes for one destination when a different place might be better. Look. Look both ways. There is the promise that the immediate week offers much goodness within, but to arrive at that? We have to be judicious in what we spend. This isn’t just about money, either, but also about time, energy, and most important, Sagittarius attention, where — how — that is spent.
“Everything’s good?”
Up to you, my fine friend, up to you.
Capricorn
It is one of my favorite times for Capricorn — Jupiter is in your solar 7th House. There’s a certain song and dance I perform when one of you is sitting in front of me. “Sagittarius make really good friends, but don’t date one of us.” Jupiter is the planet associated with Sagittarius. Jupiter in this position brings all the horse’s ass players to the Capricorn yard. Again, solid observation, happens more often than not, and while we are friendly, gregarious, amusing, articulate, open-minded, and most important, fun? There is an expectation of duration that doesn’t come with that Sagittarius energy, and that, my Capricorn friend? That’s the warning. We lack follow-through. We lack consistency. Sagittarius is great fun, but, “What were we talking about? Oops, gotta go, see-you-later-bye.” As long as there is the influence? Embrace what it brings, good times, fun, merriment, but also realize there’s a lack of long-term follow-up. Might be around tomorrow. Might not. You’ve been warned.
“Sagittarius make really good friends, but don’t date one of us.”
Aquarius
I was trying to understand why preparatory events occurred in a certain order. “Fix hair first.” Then? “Make-up.” Finally? “Get dressed.” That order, as it turns out, is carefully selected. “My husband doesn’t want me to leave the house without wearing clothes. So , if I get dressed first, he says my hair looks good and I don’t need make-up.” The hair and make-up? I doubt it is really for the husband in this situation. However, from what I understand about some human behaviors, the appearance matters to certain people. Until I aged out of the dating pools, I was known to fall prey to the right kind of eye make-up myself, the subtle use of — I don’t know — whatever that stuff is. I get that it is important to certain people. How this currently applies to Aquarius? It’s the steps, in order, a careful orchestrated series of events that have to occur in a specified arrangement because it yields the correct results. The steps, the process, the way this is done? There’s an order, a system in place, and the non–Aquarius are best served if we just observe that this is how you do it. “Hair, then make-up, then clothes.”
Me? I just shrug into a shirt and shorts, good to go.
Pisces
Not a scientific, statistical survey, but based on the number of ex-lovers who check up on me? I think a safe conclusion would be I’m not the worst person. We’ve heard it before, an ex floating through, “You were the worst ever, unless you’re free tonight…” Variations on a theme, but the idea, it is the the retrospective holds up much better than previously thought. In hindsight, we look a lot better than we did, at the time, or in the moment. The trick is, though, to get that kind of perspective? It takes time. It takes time, distance, space, and room. Pisces? We need a little room for this to grow. We need s little space for this take place. Most important? We can use a little extra time, and little extra time alone sure helps. Back to non-scientific statistical sample with the number of ex-lovers who have returned, deciding I wasn’t the worst? Time, space, room for reflection, give it some time and space. Be pleasantly surprised when things change.
I don’t think it is the Pisces perspective changing, but more about how others see, perceive, your Pisces self.
Aries
There are two answers to the pressing Aries questions. Two answers. One is clearly correct, and one is clearing incorrect. One works, and one doesn’t work. Makes it look like an easy call, when it appears that there is only one, true Aries answer, and therein is a weekly challenge for the good Aries. Two answers, one is wrong, one is right? I dislike making a judgment call, like, “Wrong or right,” as that implies more power than I should be accorded. However, there is a more correct and less correct set of answers to the dual nature of the problem. Going against traditional Aries wisdom? Instead of making a big cut, a large swing, a definite, “This is the right answer, let’s go all in, now!” Instead of such a move? Pains me to suggest it, but try a tentative step towards that one answer, that one direction, the single — at the moment — looks most correct, right? Take a tentative step in that direction. If it looks like you’re on solid ground? Then proceed. If it seemed like a good idea, but doesn’t seem to work?
Stop.
Pause, maybe, try the other route.
Taurus
Passing through South Texas, returning from coastal fishing, we stopped at a small local diner-like place for food. Quick meal, and the owner, cook, waiter, busboy, offered up some dish with home-grown peppers on it. Tiny, tight, little green slices of some pepper, I suspect they were Serrano, but I’m not sure. Enough bite to the tiny slices to announce themselves, but not so much as to be a hindrance to other flavors, mostly chopped onions and garlic. But enough to make their presence known. Felt, really, might be a better word. My own attempts at “pepper farming” are less successful. In part, I was just purchasing old packets of seeds at steeply discounted prices, 4 for $1. In part, I believe in survival of the fittest in my attempts at gardening, and when I am gone for long periods time, fishing, working, or otherwise? The plants suffer drought-like conditions. One wet summer, this made for deliciously and juicy peppers, but the peppers were rather mild. I like a little more “zing,” or fire, to some. While I enjoyed the peppers the owner/cook put on that food? I could never grow peppers so balanced. For Taurus, though, this is about that balance between what is too hot, what isn’t spicy enough, and finding that middle ground, the sweet spot. That cook did, and he was Taurus.
Means it can be done, now.
Gemini
I was doing my best to avoid serious work, and I ran across an article that suggested the kind of socks you wore would tell your age. There are certain generational markers, but I tend to check age by year, and let that correspond to where certain big and little planets might’ve been. I use a different demographic because it makes perfect sense to me, but the idea of using socks as a way to tell about a person was intriguing. Maybe a good Gemini can come up with a sock reading guideline. What someone’s socks says about them? I don’t know. There’s a small problem, and for me, coming of age in the Greater American Southwest, sandals, in one form or another, are my preferred footwear — if I wear anything at all. I like being barefoot, and that further hinders the notion of using socks to tell one’s age, or even going more divisive and using socks as a way to tell what generation one might be from. What your socks say about you? With Uranus at the entrance to Gemini, I’ve talked my way into and out of this twice over.
Is this a valid line of discussion, for Gemini?
