Taurus (4/20 – 5/20): Of course, The Author doesn't want to share this Box of Empathy, I think because her primary allegiance is to address the suffering of her flesh and blood first.
"So, where do you keep it? I'm guessing upstairs bathroom?"
She just laughed vaguely, the kind of laugh that could mean, "oh, they're onto me, shoot," or possibly "Ha! They will never find it!" I'm sure she went directly home and moved it to a new secret location, possibly off-site, because 5 acres isn't a lot of area to hide a giant shoebox. Taurus, prioritize this week. Be clear where you want to put your primary resources (time, talent, affection), and then do it!
Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): I'm pretty excited about the Area 51 news. Not because anything really happened. But it's What We Do, as Americans. We dig around for Jimmy Hoffa, we see DB Cooper and Elvis in the grocery store, we endlessly speculate on what happened on the grassy knoll, and we think about Area 51.
I love those stories, and if they want to dig for Jimmy Hoffa in my back yard, sure, I'd let them. (They'd have to dig through my vast caches of money and gold coins, though. Oops! I said that out loud!)
But what I love here is that they take scary bad stuff, like organized crime or renegade secretive parts of the government, and make them not just manageable, but fun! I'm for that, Gemini. And I'm for your week, too, which will also be manageable and fun.
Cancer (6/22 – 7/21): After dinner, we went on a miniature walk because it was so gorgeous out, and I thought about how long we've all known each other. And there I was on this beautiful evening with these lovely people who've stuck it out together through all kinds of stuff, and I was suddenly a tiny bit teary with gratefulness. Our four daughters have grown up together -- our daughters with the matching tattoos of swallows, because swallows mean home, and that's what they mean to each other. And they're still growing up together, as are their mothers. There was an imperceptible point when all these friendships started; none of us noticed it then. We didn't know that 20 ish years later, I'd be lurking behind them on a bridge, taking this picture. We didn't even know that something was unfolding, not to mention how, but I'm glad it did. And if any of them needed it, I would totally hunt down that shoebox and do whatever was required.
Leo (7/23 – 8/22): So, on my way home, I came upon an upside-down pickup truck. I was the first person to arrive. I stopped and got out, and I'll admit I was a little afraid of what I might find, but a young man climbed out of the cab and said he was okay, and asked if I had a light. I'm not sure if we were about to take up smoking or flashlights, so I just said "maybe." And I stood there, scoping him out to see if he really was okay. A bunch more cars stopped, and one was driven by a young lady whom I've known since she was five, but haven't seen in several years, so we greeted each other with gladness and a hug. One of the other people standing around walked over and said, "Oh, I love reunions that happen on the side of the road next to car accidents! That's my favorite thing!" And I'm skeptical, because that can't possibly be someone's favorite thing, can it? Favorite things are pizza or the sound of crunching leaves -- things that repeat. This event was sui generis. [I've been wanting to use that for a while, and you can probably tell, because it sticks out badly. I know. But I hope I used it properly.]
But you're with me, right? What's your favorite thing? "Oh, mine? It's when I stop because there's been a car accident on a small back road, and other people have stopped, and two of them know each other but haven't been in contact lately, and they hug, and I watch, and meanwhile, there's a person crawling around inside a flipped over truck. That's my absolute favorite thing." Anyway, Leo, I think you'll come upon much of your favorite stuff this week, your birthday time of year.
Virgo (8/23 – 9/22): So, the person who was in the accident says, "Anyone going up to Margaret?" And I'll confess that my first thought, and I'm not proud of it, was, "Wow, I've lived there for 22 years, and I wouldn't dare to be on a first name basis myself -- wouldn't that be 'Lake Margaret' to you?" But I don't want to be such a prig -- as in, "GET OFF MY LAWN, KIDS!" I don't want to turn into that, so I asked if he wanted a ride.
"No, I don't want a ride, but you know that house with two jeeps? Could stop by there and ask them to come tip my truck over?"
"Um, I guess I'm not exactly sure which house has two jeeps...."
"Okay, so you know where the party spot in the woods is?"
In fact, I do know where that spot is, because sometimes I clean it up a little, and sometimes, when I'm feeling charitable, I'll leave a few cans of beer out there, the way you might leave a salt lick for the deer. An offering for the wildlife.
Virgo, without going overboard, offer something to the wildlife this week. Be generous, and try not to judge.
Libra (9/23 – 10/22): I go to the house with two jeeps, and I suddenly feel shy, because it's after 10:00 p.m., and I don't know these people, and I don't remember the kid's name who flipped his truck, and I predict awkwardness ahead. But I pull up, and two grown men are sitting in the garage, huddled over a table under a glaring flourescent light. I walk up, and do some air-knocking at the open garage door, but they're engrossed in a discussion. "Okay, so if the plane comes in from the south..." one man says, as he sketches something on a paper. I start thinking about Area 51 again. I didn't know hanging out in a garage was a thing grownups did. It took a while for them to notice me, and when one man finally did, he looked up, nodded, and then resumed his focus on the table.
I walked into the garage. "One of your friends flipped his car over down the hill. He's fine, but he was wondering if you could help him get it straightened out."
As if they had been waiting for just this very opportunity, they walked directly to their matching jeeps and pulled away.
I don't really know how to pull this into a horoscope. But Libra, when is the last time you hung out in your garage, planning military strategy? See if you can do a little planning this week.
Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21): The nurse told me yesterday that she plans to spend the winter at my house studying. I'm a fan of all of that. Studying, my house. Oh, not winter though. Scorpio, can we make a plan to get out of here for a bit? Maybe an island in Greece for a month?
Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): So C just called and said, "These are your choices: you can come over now and we can go swimming, OR, you can come at 5 for dinner."
"How 'bout if I come at 8 for a beer?"
Then she got that voice, the patient one that she uses with her 9 year old -- the voice that says, "THESE are your choices, and there are exactly two, and I'm doing my damnedest here to make you happy, but there are ONLY TWO choices." Reason 63 why I love C. Capricorn, always pick the meal when offered a choice. That's what I did, at least.
Pisces (2/19 – 3/20): I joined a choir, which is quite fun, except that I have to lip synch some because I don't really know what I'm doing. When there's the AOUOUA stuff going on that's all notes. But one of my favorite Pisces might don chaps for our next event, which makes the whole thing, even the awkward lip-synching parts, worthwhile. Your week will be so worthwhile, Pisces. You won't even believe it.
Greece. Yes. This winter. A month at least. That's not my horoscope but I'm borrowing it.ReplyDelete
You make me happy.
See you there! (This is like a horoscope free-for-all, anyway.)Delete
Advice taken. I'll be offering something to wildlife soon. Maybe even myself. Wild life.ReplyDelete
Maybe don't offer yourself just yet. Wait a week, see how it goes.Delete
Someone needs to break the news to the Author that those meds probably aren't any good anymore ... so ... just sayin' ... hope there's a Plan B ...ReplyDelete
Yes, but for the purposes in mind, right? A shoebox full of pills ought to be good for SOMEthing....Delete
And sorry, I missed this comment for a few days for some reason!Delete
Does that bridge make my butt look big?ReplyDelete
Ha! I think the question should come from the bridge! (Do these people walking on me make me look dull in contrast?)Delete
Well, I could go on and on and on after reading this one, but I'll try to just hit the main points.ReplyDelete
It is wonderful that you have these friends on the bridge, it is not easy to hang on to friends for so many years, at least not in my world. It could have a lot to do with me, but I'm going to blame timing and circumstance.
Your toe ring is wonderful.
I could never, ever keep secrets well. They wiggle out of me somehow.
You are a kind soul to go looking for the guys up the road to help the other guy. I have that sense of responsibility for strangers too.
I also have a box of pills and will certainly tend to my mercy killing if needed. Anne Lamott talks about helping several friends end their suffering in her writing, and I wonder if I can be that strong and brave. I'm pretty sure I am. And yeah, those pills might have issues after too much time, but I bet they'd still get it done.
And I am leaving lots of gifts for wildlife lately, and entire overrun, insane garden's worth. So far the only takers are insects, but you never know.
Thanks for the horoscopes, what a gift you keep giving us.
Mel, we should have a shoebox potluck! And distribute to each according to their need. . .Delete
I'm glad you're growing food for the insects. Someone has to do it!
And you are most welcome! Thanks for reading!!
I got hung up on 'sui generis' because I had to look it up and, as you say, it stuck out badly. Isn't it true about LIFE? We try something new and blam, there we are, mispronouncing chimera or beatitudes and while everyone in our writing group is chuckling, our faces are burning with shame and we plunge into a deep depression for months.ReplyDelete
This is what I'm talking about, people. And not to mention the, um, treadmill incident.
Oh, I think I have had my own treadmill incident. Actual AND metaphoric. (Both are bad.)Delete
Beth, the word I spent my life mispronouncing in my head is epiphany, I said it like epicenter. Such are the problems of lonely readers without a writing group. Thank goodness for the internet to teach me how to say the words correctly. And thank goodness for betsy and beth and elizabeth and mary and everyone here in this little virtual group.ReplyDelete