"Thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above."
Shakespeare's As You Like It [III.ii.4-5]
Mercury isn't retrograde anymore but you can't say I didn't warn you about the fallout.
Check the travel & appearances schedule for upcoming locations. Might be one near you, cf., the download page for free eBooks of most of the regular books in print.
The coming year?
Subtitle? 2011 in an astrological nutshell: Mercury enters Aries around March 10, but turns retrograde March 30 until April 23. Mercury enters Virgo on July 9, but appears to turn backwards August 2 through August 18, starting in Virgo but winding up in Leo for almost three weeks. Mercury then enters Sagittarius November 3, and turns retrograde November 24, still in Sagittarius, until December 13. Saturn gets to 17 degrees of Libra. Stops and goes retrograde in January, uncoiling itself the first week of June.
In big planet news, Uranus moves into Aries March 10, achieving a point of 4 degrees of Aries July 9, before retrograding back to that zero degree of Aries (point) December 10 and turning around again. On April 10, Neptune enters Pisces. Doesn't get far, but Neptune hasn't entered Pisces since 1847. Neptune never achieves a full degree of Pisces, going stationary then retrograde from June 3 to finally exiting Pisces August 4. By November 4, Neptune starts crawling forward. Pluto is retrograde from April 9 until September 15, covering about 5 degrees of Capricorn, from 9 to 4.
That's the location of the planets. What does it mean? More specifically, how does it all apply to this coming week? Read on. But first, a momentary caution and urban mythology. From the "private reel."
The oral tradition behind this is just that, I heard it as lore. Whatever a person is doing on New Years' Day, the First of January? That is to be repeated, over and over, as a theme, for the rest of the year. I spent one New Year's Day with a certain female companion. Never saw her again. Theory doesn't hold.
New construction: the following scopes, while intended for the coming week, there's going to be a buried plot element in an attempt to address what the coming year will look like for each sign.
Capricorn: Ceviche is a traditional -- as far as I know -- Mexican dish. Typically, it's saltwater fish of some kind, usually snapper or white fish, and I've used Redfish, onions, peppers, and lime juice. The fish is "chemically cooked" in the lime juice. Or lemon juice. With the way the planets unfold, and the uncertain weirdness that's free-floating now in Capricorn? I have but one word of advice. "Order a large."
There's a trendy little place in South Austin, used to be a dive with good, greasy TexMex, but now it's been overhauled and it's hip, urbane and cool. Like most of Austin. The waitress, though, she was cool. I asked about the signature ceviche. Should I get a small or a large, only a dollar difference in price.
"Order a large," she explained, "the cook, it varies, sometimes a small is tiny, like only about half a cup and sometimes, a small is the exact same size as a large. If you order a large, you know you'll get enough." I nodded. She had that hasty, hurry and make decision look, the pregnant pause. "I order a large, it's a meal in itself," she said. That was useful information, about the cook. I could belabor the point and ask the waitress to harangue the cook and get a small that was large, or, Capricorn, pay attention: order a large. Faster, smoother, and the information is important. Pay attention to the tip.
Order a large. Thematic points: quick, concise, direct.
Order a large. It's only a dollar more and you're happier, it's like three dollars or even five dollars more food.
Aquarius: Jupiter and Uranus are conjunct, in Pisces. Venus, in Scorpio, will square Neptune/Chiron, here in Aquarius. Several evenings, early in December, I was out, walking home after meeting clients, and I would pass this one bus stop. A nicely attired gentleman was there, silent in the pre-Xmas twilight. Hat, slacks, shoes with a polished glow, and, at his side? A white cane. One evening, he had on sunglasses. Another time, when I passed him, right at 5? No glasses, just clear, light blue, unseeing eyes.
I have a reflexive action, I smile. Two, three times I passed him, and each time, I would smile at him. He couldn't see it. He has no idea that I'm the guy with the straggly ponytail, and goofy, lopsided grin. I haven't said anything, not yet. It's starting to get dark and cool off at that time. Had a brief cold snap, a few days and it was cold enough for long pants and boots, for me. I'm not sure if he could tell it was me. What I was thinking about, in respect to Aquarius?