Horoscope Madness

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  I went to a hilarious event with Ms. C. the other evening, in which people told a personal story from their life to a group of actors who then acted it out.  I had the opportunity to see Ms. C's coming out story performed by random people dressed in black.  Pisces, I'd like to see that as a routine part of people's life:  at the dinner table, the family is sitting around, and random people in black act out the tiny moments that make up our days.  Are you in?

Photo thanks to E-bro

Aries (3/21 - 4/19):  I woke up with a black eye the other day, which is kind of creepy -- black eye of unknown origin?  You know that guy in the Time Traveller's Wife, didn't he always arrive wherever all banged up?  I know.  I'm pretty sure that's what's going on.  This week, my friend, try to arrive wherever you are not banged up, and be right there, as if that's the only place you've ever been or wanted to be.  There will be time enough for the next place later.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  I have a person in my world who I spend and inordinate amount of time explaining about maps, and how their accuracy is limited due to RUSSIAN SATELLITES, the curvature of the earth, and the flatness of paper.  I write explanatory e-mails about the orange, the doily, etc.  I was just arriving at the idea of showing up at her house with a flashlight, a grapefruit, a piece of tracing paper, and a tiny, tiny wetland on the big plump orb to act the whole thing out as an interpretive dance, possibly to the tune of Friends in Low Places, because I've run out of ways to explain it in words.  And then I heard a guy on the radio talking about the plane that went down months ago.  They're resuming the search, which he described as, "like looking for two shoeboxes in the rocky mountains in the dark without a flashlight."  Who would have come up with that?  The Rocky Mountains?  Shoe boxes?  But it got me to thinking, Taurus, yes it did, and what it got me to thinking is that we can all try just a little tiny bit harder to be interesting.  Yes we can.

Gemini (5/21 - 6/21): The other morning, when I was doing partner's figure skating (or is it couples ice dancing?  Is there difference?) with one of my favorite people, she challenged me to think: in each moment, with each breath, what it would be like to keep in the front of our minds that everyone we know and love is going to die, and we're going to die, and this moment is all we get.  So, I went around for a few hours weeping and making dumplings and laughing and looking for things, including mushrooms.  And then I put on my survival suit and carried on because it was just too much.  But I'll try it again, Gemini.  Yes I will.

A tiny wax insect, pollinating.  Ish.

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21):  Speaking of looking for mushrooms, is this awkward? Give it to me straight up, Cancer: I was in the vicinity of some property that I did some work on, looking for mushrooms with a few friends, and I suggested we look on this customer's property.  "He hasn't built on it yet, he won't be around."  So, just as we're almost entering his land, you know, walking past the "No Trespassing" signs, he drives by.  I know.  And he zooms backwards in his car, rolls down his window, and says, "Betsy?"  Yep.  Cancer, why do so many of my stories start with, "Um, does this seem awkward?"   

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  There's been a dead possum on C.V. Road all week, and, not unlike a joke on a t-shirt (which I'm anti, btw), at first it's jarring, and then you don't notice it, and then it comes back around and you really notice it.  In fact, the image of this poor deceased marsupial is what I see when I close my eyes sometimes.  But Leo, here's my question:  who usually cleans up the roadkill?  I know, on this hill, there are poachers and scavengers who find all manner of dead thing and make use of it for shoes and food and shelter.  But a possum?  How long will it be there?  And another question I have:  will a discussion about it arise on the local FB forum?  So many questions, Leo.  Try not to fret this week.  Just enjoy.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  I had never heard of the Friends in Low Places song until the other day when I ended up at our local karaoke night, which is even more sweet and hilarious than you can imagine.  All manner of people showing up, singing their hearts out, talent or no.  And apparently, the Friends in Low Places song is a big karaoke thing.  Who knew?  (Not to stray from your horoscope, Virgo, but I did notice that there are some fancy shoes in this town.)  Sing your little heart out this week, Virgo.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I went on a fun outing with The Birthday Girl the other day; we sat in the dark on the closed side of the bar because the Monday Night people in their stupid #12 jerseys were being way too loud.  Inside voices, People! The dark and quiet suited us, but luckily, she had a flashlight, because she began writing part of an important project, at least it seemed so at the time, that you may hear more about. You may even want to contribute to it!  But the best part was going to hear about old barns and cemetaries, and being one of the youngest in the audience, which doesn't happen much.  It was a little light on stories and heavy on tax incentives, but still, nice slides, pretty barns, and there will be a training ahead on cemetary restoration!  Let's go!  Anyway, happy birthday, Libra.  May the road rise up to meet you.  

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  Oh, so the project?  Don't you think it's time for a list of core competencies that the adult humans should have?  Here's where I'm coming from:  I see people stuck in situations (and what I mean by that is relationships) because they can't take care of themselves. What should go on the list, Scorp? 

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): I spent a while the other night learning about Morgellons Disease, which may or may not be an actual disease, but whatever it is, it's pretty terrible.  Itching of unknown origin, which is not unlike black-eyes of unknown origin, but you don't get to look like such a badass.  Even Joni Mitchell has it.  But I guess the humans can adapt to all manner of things -- the itching, the tinitus, the fall.  Speaking of fall, I parked where I always do the other day, and got out of my car and there was a guy with a leaf-blower in the parking lot, and my first unedited thought was, "WTF HAPPENED HERE!  OMG!"  Because there were brown leaves everywhere.  Then I remembered it was fall, and this happens every year.  But sheesh, it's harsh.  Here comes winter, Sag.  But just like tinitus, we will get through it.

The red cabbage slurry

Index card being transformed

The litmus paper, drying

Capricorn (12/22 - 1/19):  I spent the morning making litmus paper out of red cabbage and index cards; I got the idea from a book of children's science projects that arrived anonymously in the mail.  I frankly can't think of a more useful way to spend my time.  And now, I'll have a fool proof way to figure out if something is an acid or a base.  So, if you have any tough acid/base things to figure out, I'll be right over with my organic, locally produced litmus paper.  Don't let anyone talk you into using some imported GMO paper.  Oh wait!  I CAN think of a more useful way -- making a lava lamp, which is explained on Page 22.  Stay tuned.  And Capricorn, do useful fun stuff this week.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  I made this thing for my bees, a candy board, and at first I was really proud because, well, it was a miniature feat of carpentry -- not my strong suit (I would say my strong suit is litmus paper, in case you're wondering).  And I did the cooking part, which is really just mixing water and sugar, and then the best part, giving it to the bees, and mostly I was proud because they love it so well, and if you play their buzzing noise backwards at the right speed, you can hear them saying "Thank you!"  But now I'm feeling kind of icky, because they're going through it so fast, just like a 4 year old with unobstructed access to the Halloween candy.  Should I make them more when this runs out?  Am I a bad bee mom?  Like, "sure, kids, just sit on the couch, watch tv, and drink coke."  Should I take them to the dentist?  

Speaking of which, I have three items for my Citizenship badge:  1.  I'm going to the dentist today!.  2.  I got my septic tank pumped last week.  I won't go into that except for to say that the pumping-the-tank guy was hilarious and I haven't laughed that hard in a little while.  And 3, of course, I made the litmus paper.  duh.