So it's Saturday and I get some time to myself and decide Ama and I need an engagement calendar of some kind to share, me having so many important sing-alongs to attend and Ama about to go back to work full time.
There are still huge banks of snow in the roadways and some sections of sidewalk are barely cleared, but with no stroller to deal with it's an easy walk to Harvard Square, where the Uranian sound of revolution is audible from blocks away. Of course, as this was a good 18 hours ago and I am much more concerned about remembering the words to One Little Turtle Said to Another I've already forgotten the chant, but it was along the lines of "No, no, no no no, Mubarak has got to go," may my Aquarian Moon forgive me.
Politely murmuring "Excuse me, excuse me" I sidled through the protestors and into the stationery store that has the "Please Eschew Cell Phone Use While in the Store" sign on the door, where I whiled away a couple of hours trying to decide whether to buy a lined white yellow pad for $1.69 or a quad ruled one for $2.19, hoping if I waited long enough the $5.95 desk-top calendar I had my eye on would go on sale as one-twelfth of it was no longer useable.
By the time I left the store with the full-price calendar and white lined yellow pad, the revolutionary aspect of Uranus had disappeared, to be replaced with its surprising and unusual side in the form of a package on the porch at 326. Inside: the most astonishingly beautiful HAND-KNITTED sweater and pleated skirt - A HAND-KNITTED PLEATED SKIRT - IT'S 2011! - EVEN IN CAMBRIDGE CHILDREN WEAR MASS-PRODUCED MADE IN CHINA ACRYLIC FLEECE NUMBERS FROM COSTCO - for Star Child (thank you Eileen); a never-in-a-million-years-would-I-think-it-would-fit-me-but-it-does-and-perfectly hand-knitted two-tone blue jumper for me (thank you Irene); a pastel rainbow Beanie Baby bear for Star Child (thank you Maria) and perhaps most surprisingly Uranian of all, five pairs of Bridget Jones-ish undies with lace trim at the legs and waist, except they were nylon and I think Bridget wore cotton, which is what Irene thought they were when she bought them. So as I've already told her, thanks, Irene, I love you loads, but I don't think even Uranus can get me to wear nylon undies. Good cause here they come.
30 January, 2011
25 January, 2011
Mars Opposed to Pluto
Add this to Venus square Jupiter on the same day and you get me, a stroller, a two-year-old, a desire to get to Toddler Singalong at a nearby public library and a shitload of snow on top of the other shitloads that have already fallen in Cambridge this January.
It takes us about 20 minutes on any given day to get ready to leave the house. I've learned to leave a little canvas tote bag packed with outdoor essentials -- money, glasses, napkins, clementines, cell phone and panda -- down in my hallway near the front door, so at least that's something not to have to think about.
Then it's carry Star Child downstairs, sit her on my bed, take off my indoor cotton trousers, put on the silk long johns and whichever one of my two pairs of outdoor pants are clean, take off thin cotton socks, put on horrible but warm fuzzy acrylic ones, then the equally horrible fuzzy acrylic boot liners, open the front door, retrieve the incredibly stylish multi-colored polka dot T.J.Maxx $19.99 rubber wellies I bought myself for Christmas that live outside on the doormat and pull them on, all the while carrying on an in-depth conversation with Star Child about yes, we're going outside, right, Sweet Pea is going to stay here, yes, panda is coming with us but he's already in the bag etc. etc.
Once I've got my bottom half on I can start on her. On go her leg warmers - a mismatched pair of her mother's old socks with the toes cut off, one beige, one red and black stripes - and if she's going in the stroller she gets stuffed into a puffy snow suit overall thing. Her boots get retrieved from the mat outside and we do a push, push as her feet go into the boots, usually on the wrong feet first so they come off and we do it again.
Now I get to put on my first layered sweater and then the big bulky black one, she comes off the bed and one of her fleecy hooded tops go on, as does my winter coat. By now we're both beginning to resemble the Michelin Man and movement is, to say the least, restricted, but there's still my neck warmer and hat to go and then her almost full-length down coat. At this point she is truly incapable of movement so we do the sack of potatoes lift with my left arm and with my right hand I pick up the folded stroller and stagger down the stairs. Put her down, open the door to the porch, put her outside on the porch, put the stroller on the porch, lock the door, take the stroller down the six steps to pavement level, leave it there and come back and get her. Sit her in it, find the shoulder straps, fit them into the buckle on the padded thing that goes between her legs, stuff the tote bag into the space under where she sits, open the gate, push her outside on to the pavement, close the gate and we're ready to go. If I were not taking Wellbutrin and Celexa I would get as far as putting on my big black sweater before taking it off again and going back upstairs to let her watch Tubby Toast on youTube for as long as she liked.
Preliminaries over ha ha, we set off for singalong, and made it all the way to the corner (we're the third house in) before the first obstacle appeared -- a foot or so of cleared sidewalk in between four feet high snowbanks. The snow was still soft, so I was able to turn the stroller around, tip it on its back legs, walk backwards myself and pull it through, but then of course the minute we crossed the road we were met with the same thing on the other side. Repeat performance and off we went on the side street, where some people had cleared their sidewalks and some hadn't. Undaunted, our Venusian goal like the Star of Bethlehem beckoning us onward, we soldiered on, sometimes with me picking up the stroller complete with Star Child in it and tottering along that way for a couple of feet (if you can totter in wellington boots), sometimes walking backwards and pulling, sometimes unstrapping her and carrying her ten feet or so ahead and then going back to retrieve the stroller and sometimes being helped by passing motorists who would stop their cars, get out, politely not ask me if I was insane and help me over particularly unnavigable drifts.
We managed about half a mile of this before we got to a major roadway bordering the Fresh Pond Reservoir, and even from across six lanes of traffic I could see the sidewalk we needed to take by the reservoir had barely been cleared. Just in case there might be a miracle along the lines of the Parting of the Red Sea once we got across, I struggled through the piles of slush on the corners and made it over the road, but there was no miracle and the snow was as immutable a force as you would expect on a Mars opposed to Pluto day.
There was nothing for it but to turn around, face the slush again and retrace our stroller tracks, although on the way back I did give in to the inevitable and walk on the roadway on the uncleared side streets. We got back to the house just about the time singalong was due to start and were met by a surprised looking Ama. "Back so soon?" she said.
It takes us about 20 minutes on any given day to get ready to leave the house. I've learned to leave a little canvas tote bag packed with outdoor essentials -- money, glasses, napkins, clementines, cell phone and panda -- down in my hallway near the front door, so at least that's something not to have to think about.
Then it's carry Star Child downstairs, sit her on my bed, take off my indoor cotton trousers, put on the silk long johns and whichever one of my two pairs of outdoor pants are clean, take off thin cotton socks, put on horrible but warm fuzzy acrylic ones, then the equally horrible fuzzy acrylic boot liners, open the front door, retrieve the incredibly stylish multi-colored polka dot T.J.Maxx $19.99 rubber wellies I bought myself for Christmas that live outside on the doormat and pull them on, all the while carrying on an in-depth conversation with Star Child about yes, we're going outside, right, Sweet Pea is going to stay here, yes, panda is coming with us but he's already in the bag etc. etc.
Once I've got my bottom half on I can start on her. On go her leg warmers - a mismatched pair of her mother's old socks with the toes cut off, one beige, one red and black stripes - and if she's going in the stroller she gets stuffed into a puffy snow suit overall thing. Her boots get retrieved from the mat outside and we do a push, push as her feet go into the boots, usually on the wrong feet first so they come off and we do it again.
Now I get to put on my first layered sweater and then the big bulky black one, she comes off the bed and one of her fleecy hooded tops go on, as does my winter coat. By now we're both beginning to resemble the Michelin Man and movement is, to say the least, restricted, but there's still my neck warmer and hat to go and then her almost full-length down coat. At this point she is truly incapable of movement so we do the sack of potatoes lift with my left arm and with my right hand I pick up the folded stroller and stagger down the stairs. Put her down, open the door to the porch, put her outside on the porch, put the stroller on the porch, lock the door, take the stroller down the six steps to pavement level, leave it there and come back and get her. Sit her in it, find the shoulder straps, fit them into the buckle on the padded thing that goes between her legs, stuff the tote bag into the space under where she sits, open the gate, push her outside on to the pavement, close the gate and we're ready to go. If I were not taking Wellbutrin and Celexa I would get as far as putting on my big black sweater before taking it off again and going back upstairs to let her watch Tubby Toast on youTube for as long as she liked.
Preliminaries over ha ha, we set off for singalong, and made it all the way to the corner (we're the third house in) before the first obstacle appeared -- a foot or so of cleared sidewalk in between four feet high snowbanks. The snow was still soft, so I was able to turn the stroller around, tip it on its back legs, walk backwards myself and pull it through, but then of course the minute we crossed the road we were met with the same thing on the other side. Repeat performance and off we went on the side street, where some people had cleared their sidewalks and some hadn't. Undaunted, our Venusian goal like the Star of Bethlehem beckoning us onward, we soldiered on, sometimes with me picking up the stroller complete with Star Child in it and tottering along that way for a couple of feet (if you can totter in wellington boots), sometimes walking backwards and pulling, sometimes unstrapping her and carrying her ten feet or so ahead and then going back to retrieve the stroller and sometimes being helped by passing motorists who would stop their cars, get out, politely not ask me if I was insane and help me over particularly unnavigable drifts.
We managed about half a mile of this before we got to a major roadway bordering the Fresh Pond Reservoir, and even from across six lanes of traffic I could see the sidewalk we needed to take by the reservoir had barely been cleared. Just in case there might be a miracle along the lines of the Parting of the Red Sea once we got across, I struggled through the piles of slush on the corners and made it over the road, but there was no miracle and the snow was as immutable a force as you would expect on a Mars opposed to Pluto day.
There was nothing for it but to turn around, face the slush again and retrace our stroller tracks, although on the way back I did give in to the inevitable and walk on the roadway on the uncleared side streets. We got back to the house just about the time singalong was due to start and were met by a surprised looking Ama. "Back so soon?" she said.
22 January, 2011
Mars trine Neptune, Mercury sextile Mars
Six more inches of snow, on top of what was here when TJ and I drove up on Monday. Ama had the day off and she, me and Star Child spent the day cozy and warm inside, with cars creeping along Concord Avenue and the snow piling up on the skylights making the living room dim and murky and even more inviting.
I introduced Star Child to the Teletubbies on youTube, and she snuggled up next to me in the armchair, thumb firmly in mouth, eyes wide open, jabbing her spitty finger onto the screen and repeating after me 'Tinky Winky, Dipsy, LaLa, Po' and getting them right most of the time. She repeats everything said to her now, up to five or six syllables, and while it's not immediately intelligible Ama and I between us can usually come up with the meaning. Ama is so much more relaxed than she was when she first got back from Nepal with Star Child at the beginning of December I no longer feel as though I'm stepping on egg-shells, and since we all reunited on Monday after their trip to St. Croix I've been thinking things are going to work out and I can even unpack.
Even Sweet Pea is getting more relaxed and ventures out from his closet while Star Child is awake and does a belly to the ground slink into the bedroom where he sits and looks out the back window, doing an immediate belly to the ground slink back into his closet if she gets too close, but still--compared to December, when he wouldn't even come out till she had been safely in bed for half an hour, it's amazing.
With both the day's aspects perfecting within an hour of each other, at six and seven pm., by 6:30 I felt as though I'd burst if I didn't tell Ama how good it felt to be so comfortable and at home, so I did, and couldn't help myself from asking if she felt the same. She did.
I introduced Star Child to the Teletubbies on youTube, and she snuggled up next to me in the armchair, thumb firmly in mouth, eyes wide open, jabbing her spitty finger onto the screen and repeating after me 'Tinky Winky, Dipsy, LaLa, Po' and getting them right most of the time. She repeats everything said to her now, up to five or six syllables, and while it's not immediately intelligible Ama and I between us can usually come up with the meaning. Ama is so much more relaxed than she was when she first got back from Nepal with Star Child at the beginning of December I no longer feel as though I'm stepping on egg-shells, and since we all reunited on Monday after their trip to St. Croix I've been thinking things are going to work out and I can even unpack.
Even Sweet Pea is getting more relaxed and ventures out from his closet while Star Child is awake and does a belly to the ground slink into the bedroom where he sits and looks out the back window, doing an immediate belly to the ground slink back into his closet if she gets too close, but still--compared to December, when he wouldn't even come out till she had been safely in bed for half an hour, it's amazing.
With both the day's aspects perfecting within an hour of each other, at six and seven pm., by 6:30 I felt as though I'd burst if I didn't tell Ama how good it felt to be so comfortable and at home, so I did, and couldn't help myself from asking if she felt the same. She did.
21 January, 2011
Venus square Mars and More
I'm not sure if going to a regular folk's supermarket instead of to Whole Foods counts for this, but that's what happened, along with White Mummie coming back from the Caribbean with Two-Year-Old and all being well when they arrived.
TJ picked me and Sweet Pea up outside 1674 exactly on time at 10:00 am and we had a reasonably delay free drive up to Cambridge. One bad accident somewhere around Hartford that delayed us a bit but we were up here at two, and I asked TJ to take to me a supermarket for ordinary people instead of a Whole Foods, which is the closest supermarket to where I now live.
We went to a Shaw's and I got the makings I needed for the big fat curry I wanted to have waiting for when White Mummie and TYO arrived, and after Manhattan's pitiful little cheap supermarkets was a bit stunned by what was in stock at the Shaw's -- aisle after aisle of foreign foods, incredibly varied, if not organic. I ended up buying Marmite and Digestive biscuits along with all the curry makings, as well as some Dunkin' Donuts coffee instead of the $13.99 per pound offerings at Whole Foods.
I worked on the curry while TJ went and picked up the travelers from Logan, and by the time they came back everything was ready. Definitely a boring entry, but it's already four days ago and if I don't write this the day things happen, the details get lost.
Wednesday's Full Moon at 29 Cancer squared Venus for me exactly, and saw me sitting up in bed stuffing myself with McVitie's Digestive Biscuits while working on a copy-editing job about how to be a leader in business. Makes up for the lame Venus square Mars.
TJ picked me and Sweet Pea up outside 1674 exactly on time at 10:00 am and we had a reasonably delay free drive up to Cambridge. One bad accident somewhere around Hartford that delayed us a bit but we were up here at two, and I asked TJ to take to me a supermarket for ordinary people instead of a Whole Foods, which is the closest supermarket to where I now live.
We went to a Shaw's and I got the makings I needed for the big fat curry I wanted to have waiting for when White Mummie and TYO arrived, and after Manhattan's pitiful little cheap supermarkets was a bit stunned by what was in stock at the Shaw's -- aisle after aisle of foreign foods, incredibly varied, if not organic. I ended up buying Marmite and Digestive biscuits along with all the curry makings, as well as some Dunkin' Donuts coffee instead of the $13.99 per pound offerings at Whole Foods.
I worked on the curry while TJ went and picked up the travelers from Logan, and by the time they came back everything was ready. Definitely a boring entry, but it's already four days ago and if I don't write this the day things happen, the details get lost.
Wednesday's Full Moon at 29 Cancer squared Venus for me exactly, and saw me sitting up in bed stuffing myself with McVitie's Digestive Biscuits while working on a copy-editing job about how to be a leader in business. Makes up for the lame Venus square Mars.
15 January, 2011
Mars Square Mercury Plus
So when I got the new computer I subscribed to Mobile Me in a somewhat pitiful attempt to help me keep myself organized (as though I were organized in the first place). I thought if I could for the first time really use the address book on the Air, instead of lugging a five by eight inch physical address book around with me from Silver to New York and now to Cambridge and back, when I booted up a desktop and Mobile Me'ed myself, the desktop computer's address book would automatically update. Brilliant!
Then I looked at what Mobile Me offered and went into a mild panic because it didn't say anything about linking a laptop to a desktop, just linking an iPhone or an iPod, neither of which I have, to one or the other. Mr. Mobile Me was very nice to me though and reassured me of course I could do it, so I did, and have yet to add anything to any address book anywhere, but I can't blame that on Mobile Me.
I can't blame re-transcribing an MP3 on Mobile Me, either, but I only spent three hours on it before the bell went off in my dim little brain and I realized I'd transcribed it two months ago, before I went up to Cambridge.
And to lump in a few highlights (!!!!!) of the week as I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep this up to date, Mercury trine Venus had me on Lands End's web site ordering two on sale funnel neck sweaters and a pair of silk long johns for my return to the Republic of Cambridge on Monday. I have no idea whatsoever what Mars trine Chiron did, unless it was me taking a deep breath over the copyediting job I have and realizing it doesn't have to be remotely perfect, it just has to make sense.
Mars square Venus this morning, and I was back at the Apple store on Broadway for the third Saturday in a row, this time at the Genius Bar having them reinstall iPhoto on the old PowerBook I'm sending to John, me being so generous and all, and then across the street at the diner wolfing down corned beef hash and eggs.
Tonight at 9:03 Jupiter opposes Chiron exactly. Perhaps its finally time to watch It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.
Then I looked at what Mobile Me offered and went into a mild panic because it didn't say anything about linking a laptop to a desktop, just linking an iPhone or an iPod, neither of which I have, to one or the other. Mr. Mobile Me was very nice to me though and reassured me of course I could do it, so I did, and have yet to add anything to any address book anywhere, but I can't blame that on Mobile Me.
I can't blame re-transcribing an MP3 on Mobile Me, either, but I only spent three hours on it before the bell went off in my dim little brain and I realized I'd transcribed it two months ago, before I went up to Cambridge.
And to lump in a few highlights (!!!!!) of the week as I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep this up to date, Mercury trine Venus had me on Lands End's web site ordering two on sale funnel neck sweaters and a pair of silk long johns for my return to the Republic of Cambridge on Monday. I have no idea whatsoever what Mars trine Chiron did, unless it was me taking a deep breath over the copyediting job I have and realizing it doesn't have to be remotely perfect, it just has to make sense.
Mars square Venus this morning, and I was back at the Apple store on Broadway for the third Saturday in a row, this time at the Genius Bar having them reinstall iPhoto on the old PowerBook I'm sending to John, me being so generous and all, and then across the street at the diner wolfing down corned beef hash and eggs.
Tonight at 9:03 Jupiter opposes Chiron exactly. Perhaps its finally time to watch It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.
09 January, 2011
Mars conjunct Midheaven then trine Ascendant
I don't know - Mars to the Midheaven and I run around like a loonie getting old clothes together to take to a thrift shop before I meet a friend for lunch? And then of course I'm late and there's no time to go to the thrift shop first. And I call saying I'll be late and say I'll call when I get out of the subway at Wall Street? And I get out of the subway at Wall Street and turn on my cell phone and it needs charging and I can't call and have to walk to the apartment - and thank God I wrote down the address before I left home - and have to ask the doorman to call up to Kate's apartment and tell her I'm in the lobby? THAT'S Mars to the Midheaven? Talk about it's all relative.
Then later in the day Mars trines the ascendant and I'm sitting on the couch with my old laptop and I get Skyped by a friend in Silver and he can't see me because the old PowerBook doesn't have a camera. THAT'S Mars trine the Ascendant?
And at 9:15 pm the Sun trined Jupiter. Hmmmmm. See opening paragraph about running around like a loonie to get clothes to a thrift shop and making myself late because of it and not having time to go to the thrift shop. But wouldn't that be a square? Do I need to get a life?
Then later in the day Mars trines the ascendant and I'm sitting on the couch with my old laptop and I get Skyped by a friend in Silver and he can't see me because the old PowerBook doesn't have a camera. THAT'S Mars trine the Ascendant?
And at 9:15 pm the Sun trined Jupiter. Hmmmmm. See opening paragraph about running around like a loonie to get clothes to a thrift shop and making myself late because of it and not having time to go to the thrift shop. But wouldn't that be a square? Do I need to get a life?
08 January, 2011
Sun Square Sun...
... and Mars a day away from the Midheaven, but the woman at the Apple store when I took my 15 inch MacBook Pro back to swap it for the 13 inch MacBook Air couldn't have been any nicer or more accommodating, and now I feel as though I really did get a fabulous Christmas present.
The MacBook Pro was bought in such a hurry right before Christmas in that insane month when Sirjana arrived from Kathmadu it's kind of a miracle I could focus on buying a computer at all. Traffic was backed up for miles, Liza was driving, her mother in the passenger seat, Sirjana behind her in the car seat and me next to Sirjana, playing my Sherpa role and holding my hand out for each piece of clementine peel that S was taking off and putting it in my bag and hoping it would take her a really long time to peel it. It ended up taking us more than an hour to drive from Cambridge to Legacy Place in Dedham anyway, so we were all frazzled by the time we got there, and of course Mercury was retrograde in the Eighth House of other people's money (it was a Christmas present), not that I even realized that as the whole month, in retrospect, was so crazed. "I was thinking about this" I said to the salesman, about the Air, "but I really want to be able to see more than one document at once." "Oh well then," he said, "You need the 15 inch MacBook Pro," and that was that. That's what I got.
I took it up to the Bronx last Thursday as a kind of test when I went to see Albert, and even without Sweet Pea in his carrier in my other hand, the way it will be when I fly back to Silver, I still felt as though I was lugging a brick around, and could hardly wait to get to the Apple store this morning and exchange it.
So - don't buy *big ticket* items when Mercury is retrograde, no matter what house it's in. Astrologer, heal thyself.
The MacBook Pro was bought in such a hurry right before Christmas in that insane month when Sirjana arrived from Kathmadu it's kind of a miracle I could focus on buying a computer at all. Traffic was backed up for miles, Liza was driving, her mother in the passenger seat, Sirjana behind her in the car seat and me next to Sirjana, playing my Sherpa role and holding my hand out for each piece of clementine peel that S was taking off and putting it in my bag and hoping it would take her a really long time to peel it. It ended up taking us more than an hour to drive from Cambridge to Legacy Place in Dedham anyway, so we were all frazzled by the time we got there, and of course Mercury was retrograde in the Eighth House of other people's money (it was a Christmas present), not that I even realized that as the whole month, in retrospect, was so crazed. "I was thinking about this" I said to the salesman, about the Air, "but I really want to be able to see more than one document at once." "Oh well then," he said, "You need the 15 inch MacBook Pro," and that was that. That's what I got.
I took it up to the Bronx last Thursday as a kind of test when I went to see Albert, and even without Sweet Pea in his carrier in my other hand, the way it will be when I fly back to Silver, I still felt as though I was lugging a brick around, and could hardly wait to get to the Apple store this morning and exchange it.
So - don't buy *big ticket* items when Mercury is retrograde, no matter what house it's in. Astrologer, heal thyself.
05 January, 2011
Solar Eclipse on South Node - The Result
shine their
F*ck! That's what left after me writing about the manifestation of the eclipse on my South Node Tuesday morning and making snide comments about astrology sites that say eclipses open up the heavens so the rays of consciousness can get through to us more easily or something and then hitting a key combination that erased the whole thing. Or was that the eclipse, ha ha?
What DID happen was a big $202 for my playwriting royalties was deposited into PayPal for me late on Monday afternoon, and I got a call on Tuesday with a lead for a copy-editing job that pays $30 an hour, the kind of money I used to make when I was working at OppenheimerFunds in a previous pre-9/11 existence. And just in case I hit that dreaded erase everything key combination again, that's all, folks.
F*ck! That's what left after me writing about the manifestation of the eclipse on my South Node Tuesday morning and making snide comments about astrology sites that say eclipses open up the heavens so the rays of consciousness can get through to us more easily or something and then hitting a key combination that erased the whole thing. Or was that the eclipse, ha ha?
What DID happen was a big $202 for my playwriting royalties was deposited into PayPal for me late on Monday afternoon, and I got a call on Tuesday with a lead for a copy-editing job that pays $30 an hour, the kind of money I used to make when I was working at OppenheimerFunds in a previous pre-9/11 existence. And just in case I hit that dreaded erase everything key combination again, that's all, folks.
03 January, 2011
My Very Own New Year: Solar Eclipse on South Node
It's not here yet, but I've got Io Sprite up and running on my desktop and I'm watching the Moon get closer to the Sun with both of them due to land on my South Node at 4Cap25 at 4:03 am tomorrow.
Oh okay, so the eclipse is at 13Cap39, if you want to quibble, but it's close enough for me, and knowing the effect last year's solar eclipse on my Midheaven had, I should probably get the foot pedal out and start practicing transcribing again for when the phone rings in fifteen hours time.
As for a quick review of 2011 so far, Venus opposed to the Ascendant acted true to form for me yesterday. I went to the pictures with a friend to see The King's Speech, on the way out she bet me $20 that Guy Pearce was once married to Madonna and thanks to her iPhone I was able to lay claim to my winnings before we'd made it out of the lobby.
We then had a lovely wander though Central Park talking about all the people we used to know, walked up Broadway to go to Fairway and ran smack into one of the people I'd told her ten minutes before I'd lost touch with, I would say about 20 minutes after Venus went into my Seventh. A quick whip through Fairway and I came home with Australian liquorice, Spanish date-walnut cake and plain goat cheese, which became my Venusian dinner, and an hour after that me and a new-to-me Robert Parker Jesse Stone mystery were curled up in bed, where I seem to have spent most of my time since coming down to New York for my holidays.
Jet-Setter Star Child is in St. Croix wearing her life-jacket and her upside-down sunglasses, Sweet Pea is sprawled out fearlessly on the kitchen counter rejoicing in the absence of small humans poking his toys on sticks at him and saying Hi Baby, Hi Sweet Pea, any minute now I'm going to get dressed and mail my Thank You cards, just as soon as I've written them ha ha, and as My Very Own New Year draws closer, may we all take Uranus in Aries for the next seven years as much in our stride (yeah, right) as Star Child is taking her new life in hers. And if you happen to be an Aries yourself, don't miss Jupiter as it whizzes through in the next six months. Fat chance.
Oh okay, so the eclipse is at 13Cap39, if you want to quibble, but it's close enough for me, and knowing the effect last year's solar eclipse on my Midheaven had, I should probably get the foot pedal out and start practicing transcribing again for when the phone rings in fifteen hours time.
As for a quick review of 2011 so far, Venus opposed to the Ascendant acted true to form for me yesterday. I went to the pictures with a friend to see The King's Speech, on the way out she bet me $20 that Guy Pearce was once married to Madonna and thanks to her iPhone I was able to lay claim to my winnings before we'd made it out of the lobby.
We then had a lovely wander though Central Park talking about all the people we used to know, walked up Broadway to go to Fairway and ran smack into one of the people I'd told her ten minutes before I'd lost touch with, I would say about 20 minutes after Venus went into my Seventh. A quick whip through Fairway and I came home with Australian liquorice, Spanish date-walnut cake and plain goat cheese, which became my Venusian dinner, and an hour after that me and a new-to-me Robert Parker Jesse Stone mystery were curled up in bed, where I seem to have spent most of my time since coming down to New York for my holidays.
Jet-Setter Star Child is in St. Croix wearing her life-jacket and her upside-down sunglasses, Sweet Pea is sprawled out fearlessly on the kitchen counter rejoicing in the absence of small humans poking his toys on sticks at him and saying Hi Baby, Hi Sweet Pea, any minute now I'm going to get dressed and mail my Thank You cards, just as soon as I've written them ha ha, and as My Very Own New Year draws closer, may we all take Uranus in Aries for the next seven years as much in our stride (yeah, right) as Star Child is taking her new life in hers. And if you happen to be an Aries yourself, don't miss Jupiter as it whizzes through in the next six months. Fat chance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)