The Future! (And maybe even the past...)

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  The reason I hardly write, or go to yoga, or go to the coffee shop anymore is because of my dog.  I'm so in love with her that it's embarrassing.  I'm in a serious, monogamous relationship with her that takes up much of my time, and my micro-

adventures are unremarkable to anyone who doesn't love my dog.  But here's something that happened a few weeks ago.  I went to the dog park in Carnation, which is kind of hilarious because no dogs are ever there.  It's eight acres of fenced grass, but it seems like 100 acres because it's so vast and empty, much like the political landscape.  But one day I went, and there was another dog there!  So the dogs played and I talked to the owner, who seemed like her natural habitat was a bar stool and her beverage of choice was whisky.  

I asked her what kind of dog it was -- pure lab, or something else?  And she said, "well, if you look at the pants on him, there's more feathers than on your dogs pants."  I couldn't see the pants on either dog, which brings me to your horoscope, Pisces. Be the pants you want to see in the world.  

Aries (3/21 - 4/19):   After a bit, the lady told me that her dog does tricks!  She held out a treat while her dog sat in front of her.  She circled her hand in a clockwise direction, and the dog followed the treat with his nose, also in a clockwise direction.  "He can go the other way too," she bragged.  And lo and behold, when she switched the rotation of her hand, the dog tracked the treat by rotating his head in a counter clockwise direction!  Aries, back to you.  Your horoscope this week is to celebrate all the simple things you and your loved ones accomplish.   Try going counter-clockwise once in a while.  You can do it!

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20): She was so proud of his trick, so I made the appropriate oohs and ahhs, and she said he had another trick, that he could say 'I love you'.  The dog barked a few times ("RUFF!"), and she responded, "NO, say 'I love you.'"  And the dog said ruff.  After three times, the dog said ruff in a slightly different accent (undetectable to me, but obvious to her), and the ecstatic woman said, "I love you too!  Good boy!"  Taurus, if you're going to be a little bit crazy, go crazy in the way that you hear "I love you" when a dog barks, or a bird chirps.   Did you know the squirrels talk to me?  They talk to you too!  And they say really nice things.  I feel sure of it.

Gemini (5/21 - 6/21): 45 uses a Samsung Galaxy 3S.  Three, if you aren't up on all the Android levels, 3 is a low number.  Low numbers are good for some things (cholesterol, golf, unwanted intruders), but not so good, apparently, for the cell phones.  Gemini, this week, get low numbers for the right things.  Upgrade your phone, fer goddsakes.  (Oh, wait, I'm not sure why I even said that.  Your flip phone is just fine.)

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21):  The Natural Resources Conservation Service offers free (ish) farm planning services.  They look up the soils and put a 34-page report together saying what the soils are mapped as.  I think I would like to offer farm planning services that address what farmers really need:  A bunch of names.  Animals will be coming through their lives -- cats, chickens, goats, dogs -- and every single one will need a name.  That's the hardest part of farming, besides all the other really hard parts.   If I wrote your farm plan, Appendix A would be a list of names that we all agree on.  One thing for sure, Cancer, is you won't find "Chuck Norris" on the list of suitable dog names.  But Humphrey would be available for chickens, dogs, and Guinea pigs.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  Well, Comey did his thing, and now the Repubs will scurry around and try to re-form all the doo-doo into sound-bites.  I'm so very weary of the whole thing.  That's all I've got, Leo.  It's too tedious and corrupt to even joke about anymore.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22): I've been goofing around with my insect drawings and started a little store, Bugs on Your Pants.  It's fun so far, because no one has come back to me and said, "Jeez, there were hardly any bugs on my pants!  I want my money back!"  Virgo, this week, in low moments, sing a little song!

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  The other thing I've been trying to do is graft queen bees, which is harder than it sounds.  (That wasn't even a joke.)  I wear these ridiculous glasses that make me look like a gynecologist as I try to get really close to the tiniest little bee eggs, and the bees are all buzzing around like they own the place, which they do, and then I take this very tiny tool and scoop out the egg as if I can even see it, and try to put it into this plastic situation that supposedly the bees will "take to".  So far, it isn't going down like the videos, where the bees are calm and the scooping is easy.  But Libra, LIFE IS NOT LIKE THE MOVIES.  We know this.  Because in the movies, Donald Trump doesn't get to be president, because good deeds are rewarded and thugs are punished.  Libra, reward the good deeds this week.  Banish thugs if you can.  

Swollen eye from "beekeeping"

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21): Can we come back to my dog for a minute?  She needs some hobbies, and it's become increasingly clear that most hobbies are easiest when you have thumbs.  She can't read -- in fact, she hardly speaks english.  Stamp collecting, model airplane building, carpentry -- all out of the question.  She shows a lot of interest in beekeeping, but we disagree on the basics (for example, she likes to chase and eat bees until she throws up and her face is swollen.) She tried starting a blog (Gotnopants), but creepy people were reading it due to the name, so that ended.  Scorpio, this week be grateful that you have thumbs and hobbies.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): I'm thinking of doing a little Kickstarter Campaign to get a few thumbs for my dog -- maybe just two or three.  If there's enough interest, we'd go for four.  Perhaps they could be printed on a three-d printer.  It would really improve her quality of life, and isn't that what Kickstarter is for?   She would really enjoy being able to open things.  You too, Sag.  Enjoy opening things when you can, and be grateful for friends who will open the hard things.

Capricorn (12/22 - 1/19):  Did  you hear about the new evidence of Homo sapiens around

even earlier than we thought?  I think that makes me feel a little better -- it's taken us longer to muck things up than we thought.  350,000 years is a pretty long time for us to go unsupervised here on the planet.  Spend your week trying to undo harm where you can, Cap.  In your personal life, on the planet, and even in the galaxy.  (Did you know that NASA sent Phidippus johnsoni, the spider, into space in 2012?)

Aquarius (1/20-2/18):  I've been considering a new business (because apparently that's the form my ADD takes, and wetland biologist, massage therapist, wanna-be writer and bugs on pants isn't enough...).  Anyway, it would be offering workshops on how to be someone else.  So I've been surveying some of my wonderful friends, and trying to create curriculum on how to be them.  They seem mystified, like, "who would take these workshops?"  Of course, the answer is people who want to be them.  The first step is to load the goodie bags (yes, there will be goodie bags!) with each person's 10-essentials.  Aquarius, spend the week discovering what your own ten essentials are, and be sure to have them with you at all times.