Contrary to what one might expect from the nature of this blog, I am not one of *those* astrologers that check the ephemeris before making plans; after traveling from Boston, Massachusetts, to Silver City, New Mexico, on the day this aspect perfected, I am tempted to consider changing my MO in the future and taking a look at what the Moon is doing before I clean my teeth.
As I was nowhere near ready to leave, the first out-of-the-blue happening - a phoned alert from American that my flight out of Boston was delayed by two hours - was welcome, and meant I could sit down, have another cup of coffee and take photos of Star Child, who I was leaving for I didn't and don't know for how long.
Once I got to Logan and my connecting flight had been changed to a later time, Sweet Pea and I were subjected to a full body scan complete with a two-hands fingerprint swipe for me, me hanging on to him for dear life while he tried frantically to escape back to the safety of his carrier, going though security being the only event that makes him want to get into his box.
We then got to Dallas Forth Worth in time for me to catch my originally scheduled flight, except that my luggage was on the later flight and I would still have had to wait for it once I got to El Paso.
When I did get to El Paso, it was already dark and about the time I'd hoped to be pulling in to the driveway at #14. First Enterprise told me I didn't have a reservation, then they told me I could rent a car and drive to Silver but would have to return the car to El Paso, and then they told me oh, I did have a reservation and could drop the car off in Silver after all.
Once we had that sorted out, I got lost in El Paso for an hour or so looking for the 10, which turned out to be fortunate as after a couple of miles I heard a loud flapping sound and when I pulled over on a side street to see what it was, discovered a big piece of rubber sticking out from the undercarriage (?) of the car. Taking a deep breath, I pulled it out completely and stowed it on the back seat before finally finding the 10 and, three hours later, at 1:15 am on Saturday, pulling in to the driveway at #14 and letting Sweet Pea out.
The last time Venus conjuncted Uranus was when I attempted to place a bet in the Grand National. Next time is two weeks from now, July 9. One can only wonder.
25 June, 2012
13 June, 2012
Mars Conjunct Jupiter, continued
Combine this with the Sun square natal Jupiter in Virgo and you get me sitting in front of the old iMac, which at that point I planned to post on the Cambridge Craigslist Free Cycle list, with the MacBook Air on my lap, doing a quick check to see if there are any files on the iMac I don't have on the Air and then deleting all personal files and photos from the desktop.
Very proud of myself, I remember to delete all contacts from the address book and all the bookmarks from Safari, go into Mail and remove the server address for the Silver account and even open Stickies and close the notes one by one without saving. The preevz iDisk icon sitting on the desktop reminds me I have Mobile Me, and I go into the disk and remove the few files I had there before trashing that as well.
Everything else goes onto the 8 GB flash drive, which I disconnect and carefully place in an envelope (very high tech) and put inside one of the outside pockets on my computer bag, to be looked through later (read "never") when I'm back in Silver and have a real live desk again.
I even write "Flash Drive" on the envelope, proud of myself again as the drive is smaller than the nail on my little finger and it's not beyond the bounds of possibility that I will one day find the envelope, think it's empty and throw it away.
iMac still plugged in but otherwise ready for the street, I look at the piles of stuff on the floor still needing to be sorted and packed and promptly fall in a heap on the bed and, on the Air, check the Daily Mail to see what might have happened since I last checked an hour ago.
Up pops good old Mobile Me, asking me if I want to sync now, and with Jupiter in Virgo of course I do because I want to be up-to-date and organized and with all my ducks in a row; I do wonder vaguely why all my bookmarks and address book contacts will be changed because it's not as though my interests or social circle have expanded lately, but hey, I'm busy, Kate Middleton might have changed her clothes twice since I last looked, so I tell Mobile Me to go ahead and sync everything.
Much too late - O Jupiter-in-Virgo-Ruled-By-The-Trickster - I realize I'm syncing with the now immaculate waiting-for-its-new- owner iMac, and do a pretty good imitation of The Scream as four years' worth of bookmarks and contacts get wiped off the Air's flash drive and all my carefully labelled bookmark folders disappear from Safari's Bookmarks Bar, lo in front of my very eyes.
I look at the piles of stuff on the floor. I think of the apartment I walked away from just seven days before. I think of the child I'll be leaving in a week. I think of Perth, the rune I pulled out of the bag when I was asking the universe a couple of days before about the resolution of the past year and a half - "For some, Perth means experiencing a psychic death. If need be, let go of everything, no exceptions, no exclusions. Nothing less than renewal of the spirit is at stake."
I think it will be a wonderful thing when I have time to use hyperlinks and post images to this blog, and I think it's a very good thing I have a sense of humor.
Very proud of myself, I remember to delete all contacts from the address book and all the bookmarks from Safari, go into Mail and remove the server address for the Silver account and even open Stickies and close the notes one by one without saving. The preevz iDisk icon sitting on the desktop reminds me I have Mobile Me, and I go into the disk and remove the few files I had there before trashing that as well.
Everything else goes onto the 8 GB flash drive, which I disconnect and carefully place in an envelope (very high tech) and put inside one of the outside pockets on my computer bag, to be looked through later (read "never") when I'm back in Silver and have a real live desk again.
I even write "Flash Drive" on the envelope, proud of myself again as the drive is smaller than the nail on my little finger and it's not beyond the bounds of possibility that I will one day find the envelope, think it's empty and throw it away.
iMac still plugged in but otherwise ready for the street, I look at the piles of stuff on the floor still needing to be sorted and packed and promptly fall in a heap on the bed and, on the Air, check the Daily Mail to see what might have happened since I last checked an hour ago.
Up pops good old Mobile Me, asking me if I want to sync now, and with Jupiter in Virgo of course I do because I want to be up-to-date and organized and with all my ducks in a row; I do wonder vaguely why all my bookmarks and address book contacts will be changed because it's not as though my interests or social circle have expanded lately, but hey, I'm busy, Kate Middleton might have changed her clothes twice since I last looked, so I tell Mobile Me to go ahead and sync everything.
Much too late - O Jupiter-in-Virgo-Ruled-By-The-Trickster - I realize I'm syncing with the now immaculate waiting-for-its-new- owner iMac, and do a pretty good imitation of The Scream as four years' worth of bookmarks and contacts get wiped off the Air's flash drive and all my carefully labelled bookmark folders disappear from Safari's Bookmarks Bar, lo in front of my very eyes.
I look at the piles of stuff on the floor. I think of the apartment I walked away from just seven days before. I think of the child I'll be leaving in a week. I think of Perth, the rune I pulled out of the bag when I was asking the universe a couple of days before about the resolution of the past year and a half - "For some, Perth means experiencing a psychic death. If need be, let go of everything, no exceptions, no exclusions. Nothing less than renewal of the spirit is at stake."
I think it will be a wonderful thing when I have time to use hyperlinks and post images to this blog, and I think it's a very good thing I have a sense of humor.
10 June, 2012
Mars Conjunct Jupiter
This doesn't perfect till late tomorrow, Monday, but already I'm running around like a mad thing supposedly packing (again) but attempting to watch the men's final at the French Open while I'm doing it.
I spent the night on Concord to keep Sweet Pea company, woke up at five, did another load of laundry and realized if the women's final was yesterday there was a good chance the opposite sex would be playing today - bingo! NBC at 9 am.
This gave me plenty of time to empty out all the bags and boxes that came back from New York last weekend, take everything from the drawers under the bed, pile the lot in a great big jumble on the sheets, feel totally overwhelmed and go back upstairs to read The Daily Mail.
Then it was back downstairs to stare at the pile on the bed again and try to decide what I can live without that could go in the trash, what could come out to Silver with me, either via USPS or in my wheelie bag, and what could go down to storage in Randolph when Dave Myers comes on Tuesday night to pick stuff up.
Therein lies the rub, as he's coming to Fayerweather, my residence since January, two blocks away around the corner, so do I take everything to go to Randolph back to Fayerweather and pack it up from there, or do I have him make two stops, one on a busy main road with a dicing with death driveway, or do I leave it all piled on the bed in a heap and go back to watch Nadal and Djokovic start their game?
No prizes for guessing correctly, but with Djokovic losing and the game rained out I took myself off to Fayerweather to start to do something there. An attempt to turn on the TV to see what was happening in Paris was unsuccessful - which remote? What button? Turn on All or just press TV? Once I had a screen full of snow with the message "Little Or No Signal," I got the electronic keyboard I bought myself for Christmas into its box but couldn't find the allen wrench to dismantle the stand, so got on the old desktop to see what was happening in Paris.
Play had started and Djokovic was rallying, so then began the frantic search for the non-existent free live streaming. Ten minutes of that and I realized I could come back to Concord and continue to watch here, and got back just in time to see Nadal having a temper tantrum and rain stopping play for the second time.
More later.
I spent the night on Concord to keep Sweet Pea company, woke up at five, did another load of laundry and realized if the women's final was yesterday there was a good chance the opposite sex would be playing today - bingo! NBC at 9 am.
This gave me plenty of time to empty out all the bags and boxes that came back from New York last weekend, take everything from the drawers under the bed, pile the lot in a great big jumble on the sheets, feel totally overwhelmed and go back upstairs to read The Daily Mail.
Then it was back downstairs to stare at the pile on the bed again and try to decide what I can live without that could go in the trash, what could come out to Silver with me, either via USPS or in my wheelie bag, and what could go down to storage in Randolph when Dave Myers comes on Tuesday night to pick stuff up.
Therein lies the rub, as he's coming to Fayerweather, my residence since January, two blocks away around the corner, so do I take everything to go to Randolph back to Fayerweather and pack it up from there, or do I have him make two stops, one on a busy main road with a dicing with death driveway, or do I leave it all piled on the bed in a heap and go back to watch Nadal and Djokovic start their game?
No prizes for guessing correctly, but with Djokovic losing and the game rained out I took myself off to Fayerweather to start to do something there. An attempt to turn on the TV to see what was happening in Paris was unsuccessful - which remote? What button? Turn on All or just press TV? Once I had a screen full of snow with the message "Little Or No Signal," I got the electronic keyboard I bought myself for Christmas into its box but couldn't find the allen wrench to dismantle the stand, so got on the old desktop to see what was happening in Paris.
Play had started and Djokovic was rallying, so then began the frantic search for the non-existent free live streaming. Ten minutes of that and I realized I could come back to Concord and continue to watch here, and got back just in time to see Nadal having a temper tantrum and rain stopping play for the second time.
More later.
06 June, 2012
Jupiter Trine Chiron
If you're going to move away from New York City and out of a rent-stabilized apartment on the upper east side that you've had for thirty-eight years, I suppose it would be hard to choose better aspects to do it under than those that I've just had.
To start with, I began in earnest to pack stuff up two weekends ago with Jupiter trine the Midheaven and on a solar eclipse, had transiting Uranus trine Pluto (natally in four) to help me every step of the way, and carried the last bag out twelve hours before that aspect perfected on a lunar eclipse, two days before Venus transited the Sun and three days before Jupiter trined Chiron, not a word of which will make sense to anyone but another astrologer but who cares?
Sweet Pea is curled up behind me purring on the back of the armchair, SC is asleep, the sun is shining and I don't have to spend six hours on a bus going down to New York this weekend because I don't live there any more; I've got big easy healing going on and it feels great.
To start with, I began in earnest to pack stuff up two weekends ago with Jupiter trine the Midheaven and on a solar eclipse, had transiting Uranus trine Pluto (natally in four) to help me every step of the way, and carried the last bag out twelve hours before that aspect perfected on a lunar eclipse, two days before Venus transited the Sun and three days before Jupiter trined Chiron, not a word of which will make sense to anyone but another astrologer but who cares?
Sweet Pea is curled up behind me purring on the back of the armchair, SC is asleep, the sun is shining and I don't have to spend six hours on a bus going down to New York this weekend because I don't live there any more; I've got big easy healing going on and it feels great.
02 June, 2012
Remember Me?
I'm the one who does the blog called everyday-astrology and hasn't posted for more than a week, what with the pace hotting up and all and going to plays and playing tennis in the three days I have up in Cambridge before coming back down to New York to obsess over yet another book I'm unwilling to part with and put it in the Keep pile before taking it out again and putting it in the Thrift Shop file and then taking it from there and putting it in a new pile vaguely described as Decide Later, except there isn't any later any more because the mover is coming tomorrow and my landlord expects me out by Monday morning.
After packing boxes and making trips to the thrift shop for two days straight there's still a load of stuff to do and I have made the terrible mistake of sitting down to see if anyone's answered my post for 43 Free Anthony Trollope Society Books To Be Picked Up Tonight Or Tomorrow Morning, which of course requires a bottle of beer to calm me down from the excitement of seeing the numerous responses from Upper East Siders anxious to further their cultural horizons.
Fortunately I requested a clause in the agreement with the landlord allowing me to leave behind any old crap I couldn't get down the stairs (worded somewhat differently by the attorney), although I was thinking more of an Ikea wardrobe and a six foot press-board or whatever it's called bookcase, but nothing was specified so maybe the landlord will be the lucky owner of the six feet of handsomely bound maroon volumes, as anything I leave behind becomes his property.
Enough of this lounging around; there are boxes still to pack, file cabinets to be looked into, treasures to be taken to the thrift shop, a fridge to be emptied and wishes to be sent into the ether that someone will see the post on Craigslist and decide they want nothing more than fifty pounds or so of 19th century literature.
After packing boxes and making trips to the thrift shop for two days straight there's still a load of stuff to do and I have made the terrible mistake of sitting down to see if anyone's answered my post for 43 Free Anthony Trollope Society Books To Be Picked Up Tonight Or Tomorrow Morning, which of course requires a bottle of beer to calm me down from the excitement of seeing the numerous responses from Upper East Siders anxious to further their cultural horizons.
Fortunately I requested a clause in the agreement with the landlord allowing me to leave behind any old crap I couldn't get down the stairs (worded somewhat differently by the attorney), although I was thinking more of an Ikea wardrobe and a six foot press-board or whatever it's called bookcase, but nothing was specified so maybe the landlord will be the lucky owner of the six feet of handsomely bound maroon volumes, as anything I leave behind becomes his property.
Enough of this lounging around; there are boxes still to pack, file cabinets to be looked into, treasures to be taken to the thrift shop, a fridge to be emptied and wishes to be sent into the ether that someone will see the post on Craigslist and decide they want nothing more than fifty pounds or so of 19th century literature.
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