Monday, 10 March 2008

This Week

So how was that for you? If the Pluto : Mars Sumo wrestle of last week left you in meltdown and/or suffering from sickness and diarrhoea (emotionally, verbally, or otherwise) the clean up operation can now begin. The key is to name where your weak spot was, where the fear really lies, what you really want the outcome to be vis a certain situation and in the revelations of last week’s hurdles, to get to it Batman. Or to simply drop it. That way you will have paid heed to the symptoms which came to light and will have fully received your Timely Indicator of the root cause and of What You Must Do Next in your quest for Peace and Happiness. A quiet week looms for the mop up, perhaps aside from the weather, with a weekend of happier action in store. To wit, this week’s Astrobabble:

Tired you may be, personification of a boxing glove, but when it comes to taking your place at the head of the table, this week is the week. This Saturday your ruler Mars, currently mellowing a little in the watery sign of Cancer, has a casual brunch with Saturn, headmaster of the zodiac who is currently on sabbatical and therefore far less scary than usual. This fortuitous scrambled egg intermingle is made yet more convivial to you ‘doing-this-the-right-way’ by Venus holding the hand of Mercury as together they wander through your 12th house of WhyMe?WhyNow? Mercury here on his tod would make you neurotic and cross. Happily Venus for company means there’s a certain wafting kaftan to the journey. ‘Hey, man, don’t worry so much. It’s happening to you because it’s the right thing,’ she says. And you believe. And Mercury is soothed. Best case scenario: You take the bull by the horns and with the power of self-acceptance bring the bull to its knees in awe. Worst case scenario: You spend so long accepting yourself over the scrambled eggs tete that you forget to address the point of the brunch in the first place; that someone else’s behaviour is unacceptable.

While the mouth rabbits, the truth is poking its head up like mole hills on a lawn. A chance to ground this chatter comes Saturday; can you put your money where your mouth is, your heart where your sleeve is? As both Mars and Venus hook up with the recumbent Saturn, currently zoning out in a lounger in your fifth house of love affairs, you might feel that letting sleeping dogs lie is the way. But with Mercury the chatterbox in on the act too, the dog’s ears are going to prick up whether you like it or not. This may be a slow burner but by May it will be galloping along the open road to Commitment. Watch for creative ideas and/or lovers jumping out at group meetings. By March 26th Venus and Mercury will meet up in the maze to swap stories. Concentrate this week and if necessary, jot down your feelings on which runners you feel are on best form so you can compare notes then. Best case scenario: A dream dandy bounces into your life at a pogo convention. Worst case scenario: You overthink going to the pogo convention in the first place and instead sit daydreaming over a lacklustre meal for one in front of TV documentary ‘Schnorbitz the Gentle Giant’.

Thoughts on house-buying and home improvements surface this week as Mars in your money box shares snuff with Saturn aka ‘commitment’ in your fourth house of home. Your need for a nest says gimme gimme gimme a thatched roof and a farmhouse kitchen and a home where the buffalo roam. Your monkey mind says I agree but there are serious issues of vermin in thatch, and a farmhouse kitchen? In a former council flat in Toxteth?, and what about the fouling by-laws we will transgress with buffalo roaming wild on Acacia Avenue, Biggleswade. For as many reasons as your heart coos ‘nest’ your mind rejoins with ‘compromise’. And that’s what this is. A time of negotiation and compromise in the face of unrelenting urges to spend like a lord. Jupiter and Uranus, currently playing ansaphone ping pong, finally speak at month’s end. News that comes to light then will shape decisions you will eventually make good in May. Best case scenario: You begin a process of elimination by balancing what you need now with where you want to be in 3 years time (including nosing around local no-go zones that are due a ‘face-lift’ for a future sweet deal). Worst case scenario: You buy a houseboat in typhoon bay, Hong Kong, on-line and have no money left to get to your own ‘house’ ‘warming’ party.

Hello? Kensington 242? Putting you through, caller. This week the cosmic switchboard is patching you through like billio Crab. There are sparkling conversations to be had on your ‘bigger’ picture or foreign holidays, and friends and homes and missives from abroad come a-calling. Then there are discussions and pretty ideas for long haul personal plans too, whether that’s study, publishing, or spiritual evolution. Even good news on legal endeavours is due in and, not forgetting heart stuff, there are mushy sweet nothings at the weekend for the loved up too. Thrilling and entertaining as all this may sound, caller, there’ll be gravitas behind some of your words. Saturn, the eagle-eyed referee on all the World’s playing fields, may be eating oranges on the sidelines of your communications at the present time, but his presence pervades nonetheless. Best case scenario: A friend overseas has news that gives you something to look forward to and makes you smile from ear to ear. Worst case scenario: You allow your here-and-now responsibilities to stand in the way of a dream holiday and argue with your sister about which of you your father likes best.

Just when you least expect it the storm clouds break. Somewhere, in some bank, or some accounting department somewhere in the skies, a reward beckons. Discussions re: readies, in spite of your own current uncharacteristic fear of putting the bowl out and asking for ‘more’, have to happen. Venus and Mercury now join your ruler, the Sun, in your house of tycoonery and as V & M face off to Saturn, and Mars makes a cheeky Goforit! Goforit! jaunty rap on the other side of the window, you, Mercury, Venus and the bank manager sit up and laugh together at his cheeky but charming impudence. And there it is - the bond. The ice-breaker. With smiles around the table there’s now a real chance of progress. What you must watch out for is that fine line between giving in too easily and being unrealistic. Neptune in your house of one-to-one relationships has you a little underwater. Deliver your schpiel as close to Friday as you can then be prepared to wait. It may be a little while before the cheque is signed. Best case scenario: Mars’s cheekiness cheers you no end and gives you a reason to hold your mane up high in the coming weeks, even if doubts and anxieties come knocking at the door. Worst case scenario: Scared that the ‘powers’ that be are making fun of you, you roar like a cornered animal, telling the accountant that he’s a stuffed shirt and that in other circumstances you’d eat him for breakfast and leave his laughable testes out for the hyenas.

Saturn, currently dossing down at your place, is this week faced with some lovely entertaining possibilities if he’d just find the strength to prise himself out of the armchair and into a more social frame of mind. Mercury and Venus, the chattering and respectively gown-wearing personalities of the zodiac are waving at Saturn from across the room but he’s going to have to tilt his head back and open his eyes to see it. And with Mars the galloping firebrand of the skies spending six weeks stirring it up in your house of friends, social gatherings, and dreams you can see that the only way forwards is up and at ‘em. Jupiter in your fifth house of giddy passions and creative juices receives a dance-card request from the shimmery Moon on Sunday too. So, Virgo, if you’re single here’s a weekend choc-a-block with chances to get gooey. If you’re betrothed, Virgo, here’s your chance to get gooey, creative, and/or pregnant. Best case scenario: You go to a party and meet someone FUN. Who you can REALLY talk to. And/or you get pregnant. Worst case scenario: You stay at home away from the social whirl because trivial chatter and gown-wearing is for giddy, effervescent fools with no sense of propriety. And/or you get pregnant.

Working to prove ‘them’ wrong is one approach to it, Libra. The other approach is to show ‘em the finger (quietly, in your own time, in a field while no-one’s looking) and then focus on the bits that you enjoy doing vis a vis your working daily life, the ones that bring YOU a sense of gratification and an easy rest in your pit at night. With the Sun, Mercury, and your ruler Venus all now sharing your office space you’ve got an easy touch around the boardroom, the water cooler, the boss’s desk. This is a time when you should enjoy delivering, discussing, and serving others in a convivial I-deliver-with-a-smile-on-my-face kind of way. The portrait in your attic, however, shows Mars with smoke flaring out of his nostrils at the mere thought that people may not recognise him as being The Best at What He Does. And so the great divide. And so the finger... Being nice does not undermine you. On zee contrary, being nice while zimultaneouzly being zee best at what you do weel ‘elp people to cheer you on your way up zee ladder, n’est ce pas? Best case scenario: You win the award for nicest person at work which has been a burning ambition since childhood. Worst case scenario: In the crowded office lift you forget where you are momentarily and, while running through plans to do away with the bright-young-thing in the office via a skiing accident, realise you have spoken your thoughts out loud.

Deep as you are, Scorpion, you too can feel the flutter of tiny butterflies when the season calls. And that time has come again. With the Sun, Venus and Mercury festooning your house of love affairs and children with flitting thoughts and girlish feelings and some good old fashioned bunting you may find yourself inclined to let loose your hair and dance barefoot like an innocent enjoying these trivial and yet gorgeously uplifting feelings. The skies speak of new love, endless, evening conversations which last until the light creeps back up the horizon, and of restored faith in love. The skies speak too of creative ideas, hobbies that bring a sense of proportion to this sometimes ikky pond called life and which have a chance to shape the future you hear calling your name as fearlessly as Ian Paisley with a tannoy on a rainy day in Belfast. And the skies speak too of babbees, either your own or a new arrival for your neighbours or siblings which makes you skippy happy. And maybe broody? Best case scenario: A creative idea enthuses you so much that you take out a patent. Worst case scenario: Impatient to get to the future NOW, you spill your guts to a brand new lover/business partner/bank manager. Embarrassed, they decline the offer to impregnate you.

Home is where the heart is, Archer, and adventurous, spontaneous, and erratic as you like to be, right now you’ll be happiest with a paintbrush in your hand and a book of fabric swatches as you contemplate the sprucing, refining, or expansion of Archery Towers. Part of this decorating frenzy may be your own way of patting yourself on the back and saying, ‘Well done my good fellow, look how far you’ve come in the world.’ Your mudhut becoming the way you express you and your new social standing to you, yourself and, er, you. (Either that or your Mum has booked in for some extensive cosmetic surgery and a new hairdo.) The one ‘Steady Eddy’ to watch for is your lack of attention to the safety and financial sense of what you are up to, drilling into major power cables, falling off ladders, and forgetting that the car’s service is due next month. Reparations, good. Knocking down supporting walls and melting your Ikea storecard, bad. Best case scenario: Your new solarium and hot tub combi make you feel like a footballing legend without ever leaving your front driveway. Worst case scenario: You flood the three flats below you after installing a two tonne sunken bath and your mother’s botox blow-out renders her unable to look even mildly sympathetic.

Is there no shutting you up? As Mercury, Venus, and the Sun gather for a public speaking contest in your third house of communications it would seem that even the world’s largest corks from the world’s largest cork trees could not stem the flow of poetry, wisdom, and general good cheer from your lips. Or do I, if you’ll pardon the pun, speak too soon? Saturn, your ruler, currently on Summer recess (and before you say anything in your new found loquacity it’s always summer somewhere), is on a 180 degrees trajectory from talky Mercury and swooning Venus as we ‘speak’ (to continue the theme). At its most trivial this is you having a difference of opinion with your mobile phone provider on how many minutes you can talk for in each calendar month. At its most effective this eavesdrop from your cosmic teacher brings word that it’s high time you used your power of speech to convince significant others (namely lovers and/or bizniz partners) that you want some dialogue re: the future and the bigger picture. With all of the above verbal action and the Moon adding sparkle and mush to your current trump card, Jupiter, this weekend is YOUR TIME to deliver this tete a tete. So get to it. One caveat (and if Astrobabble is to live up to its (intended) reputation as a public service broadcaster of estimable quality and fairness, it would be unimaginable to not include the following caveat): You have the power of a thunderbolt at your disposal. Be exquisitely wise in how you use it. Best case scenario: You deliver a monologue so filled with glory that your betrothed replies in poetic rhyming couplets and you are within moments rolling like thunder under the covers, Elton. Worst case scenario: The thunderstorm brewed and let loose by you brings down the telephone lines and you are left ranting to the wall with no loving ears to care for your torment.

A rubbery cheese square is not a fine, English cheddar. A bottle of 12% plonk de table is not a fine Malbec grown under Chilean suns. As the urge to splurge arrives in your daily world, Airy friend, this time you don’t have to fight it. The Sun, Mercury, and luxury-loving Venus are currently travelling in your supermarket trolley together and the balance they bring between them should help you avoid melting your credit cards into a puddle of tears at the check out. The Sun says wear what you’ve got. Show what you’ve got. Spruce it up a little and enjoy! Mercury says how are your investments doing? Is your ISA at the top rate? What’s the best savings account available right now? And let’s have a look at switching our internet / phone / leccy suppliers to save some cash. The flash thing is Venus. Venus says buy me the best. Drape me in furs and diamonds. Feed me the best, organic, hand-polished grapes while bathing me in asses’ milk and Chanel No 5. Saturn, sitting on your shoulder all the while, will rein her in a little, perhaps persuading her to do her research now for a luxury buy and then to enjoy the purchase at the end of the month. Best case scenario: You buy a piece of art or pottery at the WI bring and buy – and discover later it’s worth a small fortune to the V&A. Worst case scenario: You buy a piece of art or pottery from the V&A and later discover it’s wrong wrong wrong for the hallway console.

Fishy, it’s looking good. You’ve had a few months of poop and now your own personal spring is popping its head out of the cold earth like daffs and sweet-scented hyacinths. It’s time to ditch the metaphorical grey overalls that have been your daily face to the world. Bring in cerise, florals, gay scarves and cheeky sling-backs. Venus says, ‘Yoohoo! World look at me Looook At Me!’ and when they do Venus, the Sun and Mercury here will mean they say, ‘Wow. You truly are something, Fishy.’ Even your children and creative projects are shining brightly. Even your one-to-ones can see that you, your children, and your creative projects are shining brightly (even if they don’t share in your new passion for novelty earrings). Joie de vivre! Je ne sais quoi! Parles-vous francais?! Laugh and delight and make whoppee, Fish. These really are sweet, pleasant times. Best case scenario: Your penchant for twinning natty headscarves and deely-boppers catches the attention of Carolin Franklin and you sign a deal to market the look to the Americans. Worst case scenario: You are so convinced of your own beauty and endless luck that you embark on a foolhardy extramarital affair with a flame-haired scorcher.