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DISCLAIMER: Agatha Cane Whidley's pile of letter from far-off places continues to grow. She reads them when she thinks I am not around, with many sighs and giggles. Oh, how I wish she would share them with me! Who could this mysterious M.D. Ellsworthy be? A sailor from her recent cruise? Why else such exotic postmarks as "Machilipatnam" and "Mindanao"? Perhaps when the freighter passes through Wyoming again I will discover her secret.
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
October will be a calmer month. Compared to what, we don't know. Obviously, any month that doesn't have surgery scheduled in it will be calmer than one that does.
You will tune in to The Weather Channel and discover that winter is going to arrive in 53 minutes. That gives you just enough time to rip off your shorts and tank top and look for something a little more substantial to wear.
With the sudden appearance of winter, the good news is that you will not have to do any raking. The sixteen inches of leaves in your yard are about to be covered with sixteen inches of snow.
Because of the approaching storm, you will rush out and fill the dozen or so bird feeders surrounding your house. Within hours, the 3,682 blackbirds that left three days ago for El Paso will return and gobble up all fifty pounds of the sunflower seed you put out. No, it's not nice to call them "flying rats." And screaming "You black bast___s!" while flailing your broom wildly about is not ingratiating you to that nice new family that moved in down the street.
It's a good thing that you harvested the crop of catnip you grew for the cats' winter supply before the weather changed. The reason the police came is because your neighbors became suspicious when they saw you spread several pounds of green leaves, stems, and seeds out on newspapers to dry in the sun.
Jupiter's energy will be elevated around sunset, so watch out for a tendency toward rotten moods, especially if its your own. Your pain level will be bigger than a bread box by then. It will be a good time to play your new relaxation tape, "Screeching Birds in the Tropical Rainforest."
Until tomorrow, then - good luck, be well, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: Agatha Cane Whidley, the author, received a phone call early this morning, hurriedly packed two small bags, and took a cab to Sheridan International Airport where she was met by a rather elegant looking private jet. As she hugged me at the door she grinned: "I'm off to see the Wizard! Be back soon."
I'll miss having her around during the holidays. She makes a mean Tom & Jerry, and I dearly enjoy her lively conversation.
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
The moon in Capricorn puts six planets in this sign of the Sea-Goat. Don't ask what a Sea-Goat is. We don't have a clue. You raised goats once. And you know what the sea is. But try as you may, you won't be able to put the two together.
Your FUO has taken a new twist. [FUO=fever of unknown origin]. At this point you can amuse yourself by switching the letters around: UFO is the most obvious alternative. And there is a connection to be made here: both appear out of the blue, and no one knows anything about either one. Perhaps medical science and the air force should pool their resources, but that's not going to help your situation any.
After swimming in your own sweat all night, you will get up at 5 AM and compose a remarkably clear and concise description about what's going on. You will FAX this holler for help to your immunologist at 6 AM to make sure he gets it the minute he arrives at his office. Good luck! You will call around noon time and be told by his receptionist that he will get back to you and, no, he probably hasn't read your FAX yet. You will call after 3 and receive a similar comforting message. At this point, you won't much care.
An hour later, the office will call and "Yes! He wants you on a strong antibiotic immediately and we will phone it in and have it delivered." You will breathe a sigh of relief. At last!
Shortly after 6 PM you will begin to feel a little uneasy and call the pharmacy. The pharmacist will say, "*What* prescription? No one has called anything in for you." You will count to 10...better make that 3,692.
Because there are no more empty electrical outlets in your house, and all the six-socket power strips you have plugged into them are full, you will not be able to use a heating pad on your computer chair. Not to worry. You will go out and buy a 120-watt Super Sub Woofer for your stereo system [which takes priority over a heating pad any day]. Set it eighteen inches behind the back of your chair. When you want your back massaged, play your "Thunderdrums" CD. Don't worry about the windows. They'll survive.
Toward evening you will figure out that the phrase, "I hurt so good," seems to be a contradiction in terms. Go to the dictionary. You will discover that "good" can mean (1) certain to last, (2) certain to elicit a specified result, or (3) of a noticeably large size or quantity. That will make more sense to you. If not, substitute the word "well." There! Now doesn't that make you feel...good?
Until tomorrow, then - take your pill, get well, and be *very* good to yourself.
DISCLAIMER: I received a telegram from Agatha Cane Whidley, the author. She writes:
I am sorry to have left so suddenly and especially just before Christmas, but I received a marvelous summons from Mr. Ellsworthy. At my age the passage "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may" is not entirely lost. As the jet was flying eastward I saw the most curious sight: a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer passed us and I heard, ever so faintly, the bearded driver call to us as he disappeared into the clouds: "Merry Christmas to all! Happy holidays to you, Agatha...and to your dear charges back home!...Ho!...Ho!...Hoooooo.....!"
To everyone born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
The moon is in Aquarius today, emphasizing friendliness, humanitarianism and kindliness. Old friends bearing gifts will appear on your doorstep. You will have a good day...for the *most* part...
Early on, you will discover that your Server has done what it does best on weekends and holidays: crash. You will keep getting the message: "Connection error: timed out" when you try to log on to the Internet. This is guaranteed to send your stress level soaring. Your pain level will try to follow it to it's unpredictable destination. You will decide that there are, after all, Wicked Hairy Trolls who live in cyberspace. After taking your day's allotment of meds, you will try to sort out the problem. Whether you succeed or fail will depend not on anything logical, but on the whim of the Trolls. You will look for the book that has, in Chapter 3, a Troll-placating ritual. Yes, it does call for wine, bay leaves, and okra.
Today your cats will decide collectively that they've had enough of your silly restrictions about the Christmas tree and the packages underneath. Nothing you say to them from this point on will have any effect. They will zone you out and have at it. But what are ribbons and ornaments for, anyway? At some point down the road it may occur to you that this is retaliation for your latest interest. Just because *you* are enthralled with Madonna's bassie beat pouring into every nook and cranny from surround sound and s'woofer alike, it isn't likely that they are as impressed with seeing how far you can crank it up and still not blow every window out of it's frame as *you* are. Have you checked the level of the Kleenix box lately? That is *not* hair sticking out of their ears.
Later in the day, Aquarius in the eleventh house will highlight your love for family, friends, and acquaintances. As you dwell upon this, you will realize how very fortunate you are. Everything else pales in comparison, and you will light a candle for the many blessings in your life at this time. Two will stand out: your family has come together this year and you found Pain-L and all the wonderful people on it. What more could you ask for? Oh, yes: your pain will become, if only for a moment, as if down on a thistle.
Santa will leave a special package under your tree tonight. It will contain the magical seed of a wish. It is *your* wish and comes with all the assurances that, whatever that wish might be, it *will* come true. Merry Christmas!
Until tomorrow, then: be happy, be well, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: Agatha Cane Whidley phoned me out of a sound sleep this morning. She had this to say: "Dear Mr. Ellsworthy and I are enjoying the most wonderful of Christmases. He is everything I could ever have imagined and more!" Her voice belied her years, light and carefree, that of a young girl once again. Dear Agatha! How happy I am for her!
I came out into my living room and looked under the tree. There, nestled beneath it, was a small wooden box which had not been there the night before. Wonderingly, I opened it and was amazed to see a tiny seed lying on a bed of velvet. And then I remembered..."the magical seed of a wish. It is *your* wish and comes with the assurance that, whatever that wish might be, it will come true."
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
The moon remains in Aquarius and assures a very good day all the way around. The sun will be bright and warm. Family will call. And you will give grateful thanks, on this traditionally special day, for all that you have and are.
And on this positive note we ask that you be happy, be well, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: Agatha Cane Whidley, the author, sent a message:
Mr. Ellsworthy and I are having the time of our lives! Today we strolled in the park, holding hands like young lovers. In a few short days he must return to the sea and I will return home to Wyoming. But only for a time. Oh, how I shall miss him!
I looked again at the seed in it's wooden chest. At first I was too amazed to think of what I should do with it. And then it came to me: I shall plant it and nurture it...and see what it becomes.
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
The moon conjunct Saturn today will make for some interesting challenges. While you are sleeping, your cats will be busy rounding up all 48 of the ping pong balls you got them for Christmas. They will decide that the best place to hide them will be in your bed and will spend the better part of the night quietly placing them in strategic spots around your sleeping form. Around daybreak, the phone will ring, causing you to leap out of bed and...wonder what happened.
The cats will gather up what they can find of the remaining ping pong balls and hide them in a safer place.
The barometer and your pain level are going to climb faster than you ever cared to imagine. At your wits end by mid day, you will take two of everything you can find in your medicine cabinet and hope for the best. The best, at this point, would be to go back to yesterday and start all over again. But since that isn't possible, you will just have to ride it out. Eventually things will settle back to "normal" and you will wonder, vaguely, what you did to deserve this. Must be the Wicked Hairy Trolls. No other explanation comes to mind.
You will receive notice that your driver's license is up for renewal. You can do this by mail with no hassles if you can pass the dreaded eye test and escape having to wear glasses for another four years. They will fool you this year and replace that thing where all you have to do is tell them where the "x" is located on the diamond. You had that one all figured out, so it only makes sense that they would replace that archaic piece of equipment with a *real* eye examining machine. This will be a real challenge. When she asks which of the eight traffic sign appears closest, say "The red one." It only makes sense that recognizing a stop sign is high on their list of importance. The unimportant orange one will be the one that appears farthest away. Just hope she doesn't ask you what any of the darn things mean. As for reading off the letters on the top line of the chart, well...you will guess enough of them accurately to pass.
By day's end you will have had it and will tumble gratefully into bed. Several hours later you will awaken long enough to take off your clothes. Sleep well. You deserve it.
Until tomorrow, then - good luck, be well, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: The author, Agatha Cane Whidley, writes the following:
I apologize to you all for these belated New Year's greetings. I have been away on another adventure and only just wended my way back to Wyoming yesterday. Mr. Ellsworthy and I enjoyed a holiday vacation that was, alas, all too brief. He is off tending to his business, and I to mine.May 1996 be full of joy and healing for you all! --Love, Agatha.
Agatha seems to be very happy. Her liaison with Mr. Ellsworthy certainly brought a glow to her cheeks!
I planted what I've come to call my "wish-seed" a few days after Christmas. It rests in a planter on a sill that gathers the morning sunlight. I water it occasionally, and check on it daily. Will it grow? "Yes," it whispers, "Yes!"
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
All of the planets will be lined up in the phone companies' portion of the zodiac today, making for some strange conversations.
You will receive a call from MCI, your long distance provider, which will go something like this:
MCI: "We understand you switched long distance carriers."
You: "No, I'm still with you. Aren't I?"
MCI: "Well, yes. But our computer says you switched to <Brand X Company>."
You: "I know. But that wasn't my idea. I thought we got that all straightened out last week?"
MCI: "Yes, it is. So which would you like: three months at 50% off all long distance calls you make, or six months at 35% off?"
You: "But I *didn't* switch! I'm still with you...*aren't* I? And nothing's changed? Not my 800 number or anything like that?"
MCI: "Oh, no, everything's fine. Now which would you like, the 35 or 50% option? And we're going to send you a couple of extra calling cards, too."
You: "But I *already* have one!"
MCI: "We know, but maybe you could use a couple of extras. Do you have a cell phone yet? Do you call Mexico or Japan?"
You: "I'll take the 35% off for six months. And...thanks!"
You will hang up and dial your 800 number to see if it's really working. It is, but when you call yourself, don't be surprised that you get a busy signal.
We would advise caution when driving today. The streets are very icy and the fact that you blew a second intersection in as many days ought to suggest to you that the reason you bought a four-wheel-drive vehicle in the *first* place was for just such situations as this. You will discover that, on ice, if you leave it in two-wheel drive, your stopping distance exceeds the length of one of your city blocks. Put it in the 4X4 mode, and you will discover that you can go from 35 mph to a dead stop in less than ten feet. Try it. Oh, you did? Well, wear your seat belt next time.
All in all, it will be a pretty good day. It appears that the flu you managed to catch has gone in there and whacked the FUO, or at least given it something to think about. With any luck, it may decide that your body isn't as user-friendly as it thought, and go searching for greener pastures. Keep your fingers crossed...and your toes...and your...
Until tomorrow, then, be well, be happy, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: I picked up the mail this morning and noted, again, that we seem to be receiving more than our quota, and most of it is from this organization or that one and is addressed to Agatha. Usually, I would not pay any attention, but the sheer volume warrants some discussion. Agatha had this to say, "Oh, *that*...well...hmmm..."
I asked her what she's gotten herself into now. It seems that, being the benevolent lady that she is, she has given a little here and there to whatever charity sends out an appeal. I looked at today's bundle of mail. There are envelopes and packets from organizations like "Special Oligochaetes of the Lesser Antilles", "S.A.D.D.A." [Stay Alive...Don't Do Anything], "The Neither Left Nor Right Adenohypophysis Society", and the like. All the letters begin with something like, "Dear *** Activist, We need your help! We need to raise $40, 672 to be able to continue our vigilant efforts to..."
*Agatha!!!*
SECOND DISCLAIMER: We are not at *all* opposed to charitable organizations.
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
Starting tonight, all the planets are in the Libra-through-Pisces half of the zodiac. This is going to cause things to feel a little off balance or one-sided to you.
This morning you will go get your blood drawn for some more tests. The nurse will stick your right arm four times, seemingly unable to get that tiny needle into a vein the size of a freeway underpass. You will end up doing it for her. You will resist the urge to slap her. Yes, your arm is going turn black and blue. Yes, you are going to look like a junkie for a few days. Wear long sleeves. Don't get stopped by the police for anything.
You will decide, on a sudden impulse, to go out to the college and look over the Spring schedule. Two classes stand out: (1) "Critical Reading and Writing" in the Humanities section which will involve a lot of mental challenge and homework, and (2) "Gender Issues In the Workplace" in the Police Science department where semantics is *never* an issue. Now, who would you rather be in class with? A bunch of serious writers or all those cute young cops?
Keeping in line with several planets, your FUO will decide to go retrograde. Now, instead of having to struggle to keep your temperature under 100, you will have a really hard time getting it above 97. You will still sweat, though. A lot.
Keeping in synch with the general lop-sidedness of the day, you will decide that, rather than doing everything you were going to do, you will cancel the whole mess and wait for tomorrow. You feel too crappy to go anywhere else, anyway. So pamper yourself: put on your latest Nine Inch Nails CD, get out the chocolate, sock down your pain meds, and relax. We feel compelled, here, to advise you to trim your cats' claws. You are about to discover that they decidedly *don't* like Nine Inch Nails.
Until tomorrow, then: stay calm, feel better, and...don't forget to duck!
DISCLAIMER: The author, Agatha Cain Whidley, has returned from one of her impromptu absences and asks me to post the following:
Mr.Ellsworthy posted me from Hainan and said his freighter is headed back this way. With the state of the Columbia River being what it is, he will reach Wyoming sooner than expected. I'm off to Clarry Bench's Book N' Beauty Boutique to get done up.
The wish-seed that I planted shortly after Christmas sits in the pot on the sill. I noticed this morning that there is the tiniest hint of something stirring there..... "Will you grow?" I ask. And the whisper still comes..."Yes, I surely will."
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
The Moon enters steamy, private and intense Scorpio this morning and may provide you with the boost you need to get you out of this funk you're in. You're not quite up to handling "steamy, private and intense" yet, though, so don't even *think* about it!
The hospital's outpatient Welcoming Committee lady will call before noon about next week's exam. You were high on their list of who's paying for the new Toshiba CT machine until you tell her that, by the way, you just got a letter from Workers' Comp informing you that they ain't gonna pay. Oh, we *didn't* tell you about the letter? Well, you will get it about fifteen minutes before the hospital lady calls. You knew this was going to happen anyway. You didn't? Sorry about that.
You will spend the next several hours composing a letter to Comp telling them how "nausea, fever, and fourteen other stated symptoms" *are* related to your back injury_in spite of_what they may think. Do not overly concern yourself about this. They do not have a license to practice medicine and aren't very high up on the food chain anyway. We would suggest that you delete the first four drafts with the...indiscriminately chosen...words in them and start over again. A line has been drawn in the sand. Dry off your temper before you sit down on that patch of ground. Otherwise things could get a little "ouchy", and you will have a hard time explaining how this_new_ symptom manifested itself. Sand is gritty. You *do* get the picture, don't you? Need we say more?
A strong attraction may assert itself as Venus nears trine with Pluto in fire signs this evening. Remember what we said about "steamy, private and intense" earlier. Rather, curl up with some innocuous reading material. We recommend "The Only True Mother Goose" book your mother sent you. That should keep you out of trouble...for the time being.
By bedtime - which will come sometime tomorrow - your pain level and body temperature will read the same: 100 or thereabouts.. Not to worry. One will rise and the other will fall. Which one will do which, we aren't saying. You will know when the time comes. Take a hot bath for the pain and a cold one for the fever.
Until tomorrow then: chill out, hang tight, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: The author, Agatha Cane Whidley, returned from Clarry's boutique looking more like 52 than the 80-plus years she refuses to admit to. Captain Ellsworthy's freighter has been seen wending it's way across the great divide and, barring any unforseen avalanches or mud slides, may reach Sheridan by Valentine's Day. Agatha is nearly beside herself with anticipation!
I continue to water and watch the wish-seed. It continues to whisper to me.
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
You will be taken by surprise when the Moon squares Mars this morning. Mars is your ruling planet and, as the god of war, governs surgery, war, wounds and cuts, violence, weapons, iron, and steel. It fosters action, aggressive urges, and initiative. You have quite a day ahead of you, and all of the above will be acted on or at least thought about in the course of it.
You will fax letters to all three doctors and to that $#@!% man who is analyzing all your claims at Workers' Comp. You will assert that everything submitted *is* indeed related to your back. So will your doctors. True to form, the WC guy with no initials behind his name will prevail. You will start to have thoughts about war, wounds and cuts, weapons, and more, as mentioned above.
In the course of all your faxing and phoning about Comp's claims denials, you will discover, incidentally, that the doctor's office never received [= lost] your last two month's temporary total disability claims form and never sent it on to Comp. The one you mailed two months ago, right on time. Guess what the cut-off date is. If you guess today, you will be correct. The check *ain't* in the mail.
Since the one-and-the-same disabling condition that all this fuss is about has you whacked to the max at the moment, you will find yourself unable to declare war on anyone or anything at the moment. Which is probably for the best for them, but will leave you feeling a little on the...frazzled...side. Late afternoon will find you staring straight ahead at nothing, in an unfocused way.
There is a distraction, however, which will bring you out of it. Do you remember those little black and red beetles that live by the thousands in the elm tree outside your house all summer? Well, a family of them has set up housekeeping in your computer tower. Occasionally they make forays into your keyboard to dine on the various scraps of potato chips and cookie crumbs that have somehow fallen in there. If you strike "K" right now, you will off one of the little, er, dears, but "K" will never look the same again.
We will tell you three things: (1) you are *not* going to get them out of the tower, (2) we strongly advise that you *don't* spray Raid in there unless you *really* want another problem, and (3) it is not your cat that is causing your computer to reboot spontaneously.
There is good news. The four palm-size blue gouramis that disappeared from your aquarium three weeks ago have reappeared. No, we don't have an explanation for that one, either.
We have one last caution for today: you are not - we repeat *not* - to add Hershey's chocolate syrup to the quart of barium the hospital gave you to drink before tomorrow's CT scan.
This is, indeed, a Tylenol #8 day. Oh, they don't make a Tylenol #8? Too bad.
Until tomorrow then: do pass "go", don't remember what your mother told you, and remember to take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: The author, Agatha Cane Whidley, can't sit still today.
She hasn't heard from Captain Ellsworthy, but the weather is fine and hopefully his freighter is navigating the Big Horn mountains as we speak. Some of the waterways up there get a little...solid...on the 10,000 foot peaks, but that's never been known to stop him before.
Something happened today that brings joy to my heart. The tiniest tip of green is thrusting its way through the soil where I planted the wish-seed. Oh, my!
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
The Moon in fiery Sagittarius today will give you the energy to take on the world. And, in light of the past days' minor disruptions with Workers' Comp, you will need all the energy you can get. More important than Sag's energy - and by far more touching - is the love and caring being sent to you from the list. You will be supported to the max and will feel it with each and every breath and step you take today.
You are going to learn a new game today! It's one the medical establishment has invented, and is somewhat like Monopoly. It will start when you pass "go" and enter the Medical Records office to get copies of your reports. You will roll the dice and get a four. Which is how many releases you will have to fill out in minute detail. Having accomplished this, you will then be told that they cannot send a copy of your reports to your neurosurgeon. He didn't order the tests, he only ordered the doctor who ordered your tests to order them. You will roll the dice again and come up with one which allows you to draw a card. You will, fortunately, draw the one which allows you to have a two-by-four in your possession.
You will politely ask them to give your reports to you and *you* will send them to him. That is against the law, they will tell you. You can have them, certainly, but you can't send them to your doctor. Another roll of the dice will send the nice medical records lady to the filing cabinet where, of course, only one of the three reports you need can be found. She will tell you to roll again, and send you across the street where those particular x-rays were taken. They will laugh and tell you they don't have them, either. Another roll of the dice, and you will proceed to a radiological group on the other end of town. They have the reports you want and will give you copies, but it is still against the law to send them off to your neuro. @!#$ the law, you will do it anyway. Hopefully, they don't put people in jail for mailing their own medical reports to their own doctors.
*But* the reports from *today's* exams won't be ready until tomorrow [maybe]. In order to get them, you are told, you will have to return then and start at "go" all over again. No, it doesn't matter that you authorized the release of *everything* between the dates of September 13, 1995 and January 1, 2006. And all this time you thought it was the doctors who weren't communicating. Silly you! They just order the tests, they don't get to read them, either, unless *they* sign a release.
You will make a discovery that will astound medical science and may be the beginning of a whole new treatment method for high cholesterol. You have had genetically high cholesterol most of your adult life. All of the conventional methods tried over the years in an attempt to lower it have failed. It appears that having back surgery that results in a five month case of the flu lowers cholesterol. Congratulations! Yours is normal for the first time in decades.
More good news: your cats will discover the family of box elder beetles living in your computer. They will solve this particular problem for you, but we think - when all is said and done - you will wish the beetles were back. The obvious next step will be to buy a dog.
You will have a pleasant evening. One last bit of advice: because you drank a huge quantity of barium today, you would be wise to take a spoonful of Metamucil now rather than having to find someone who traffics in dynamite a few days down the road. If you don't turn to stone first, that is.
Until tomorrow, then: be happy, be well, and take *especially* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: The author, Agatha Cane Whidley, is in seventh heaven. Captain Ellsworthy's freighter steamed into Sheridan last night. The whole town turned out at the wharf to greet him. He will be here several days while the cargo is being unloaded, and Sheridan will have kiwis, saris, and other imported necessities once again. I haven't seen hide nor hair of Agatha or Mr. Ellsworthy since the ship docked. Hmmm....
The wish-seed is growing into a lovely plant. It's whisper still echoes, "Yes..."
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
Pluto is working over the Sun today, bruising egos and fixed notions. You will be glad that you don't think you have either <snicker>. For a while. Until reality sets in or your pain medications wear off, whichever comes first.
Even though it was 60 degrees yesterday and the nice weather man promised you could wash and hang out every last stitch of clothing you own, well...what can we say? He lied. You will leap out of bed when you notice the wind chimes banging up against the side of the house and run outside in your pajamas to grab everything off the line before the snow gets too deep. You will wish you had grabbed your robe and slippers. The wind chill will strip you to the bone and the school bus will stop right in front of your house. The kids will have a new concept of "show and tell" to take to school with them. And possibly learn some new words their parents won't appreciate you for.
All the speeches you rehearsed for this morning's appointment with your doctor will fly to wherever those things go to the moment you walk through her office door. You mind will be completely empty, but your bladder won't be. Focus on that, it might help keep the rest of you from imploding.
The only thing you will remember of the appointment will be her words, "It's not in your head. It's not in your head." Unfortunately, by then, it *will* be in your head. A rampaging migraine lurking in her office will pick up on the empty space between your ears and take up residence there.
The Moon will square Neptune around 6:00 PM and soften the day. Until then, we suggest that you practice the "This is not I" exercise your shrink taught you yesterday. And use the "Schmuck Mantra." You're going to need all the help you can get.
Until tomorrow then: be happy, be well, and take *very* good care of yourself.
DISCLAIMER: the author, Agatha Cane Whidley, finally did it~! She talked me into moving back East lock, stock and cats. Her reasons weren't ever too clear, but I remember her mumbling something about "...wasting your life out here. Going to seed, you are, Child~!" That got my attention, for it was true.
I packed 23 years of Wyoming life into boxes, packed the cats into airline carriers, and packed myself off to the East Coast.
For all of you born on April 15th at 6:22 AM:
Pluto in trine with Saturn and Uranus makes it a good day to unpack more of your belongings. You can't help but notice that the things you wanted in your new apartment somehow got dropped off at the storage unit. The treasures you will unpack this morning - like the crayon drawings you did in kindergarten and your summer outfits - are but a hint of what's in the boxes you're surrounded with. The word "useless" is going to take on a whole new meaning before nightfall.
After you sign up with your new server, RPA, you will discover that ATT flat out ignores the "Restore previous ISP configuration" command. Not only will it not restore your old settings, it will dial ATT every time you leave your computer unattended. Yes, it watches you. When it sees you leave, even for a minute, it starts the dial-up process, connects, and gobbles up your e-mail long before you can lunge back and hit the "Cancel" button. If you listen carefully, you might even hear maniacal laughter coming from it's icon. Nuke it~!
One thing you will notice about the East: the humidity will cause you to re-write your Chronic Pain Scale ten more times before you finally get it right. And even then... You will find it faintly interesting that the barometric reading and your pain levels are directly related. Well, you always wanted to be upwardly mobile, didn't you?
You are about to discover one of life's little pleasures: the floor plans of all the Wal-Marts in the US are identical~! You will be able to navigate from lingerie to laundry supplies with your eyes closed. See, moving wasn't all that bad, now, was it?
There are only 4 days until Christmas. See if you can be good until then, if possible.
Until tomorrow, then, good luck, be well, and take very good care of yourself.
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DISCLAIMER: Oh, where to begin? I will start with good news and sad news. The sad news is that Agatha Cane Whidley passed away on the Fourth of July. The good news is that Ag is still with me and we have had some lively "conversations" since she unfurled her sails and, with stately grace, moved beyond the horizon of my life. She is gone, but only from my sight.
For all of you born on April 15 at 6:22 AM:
Mercury enters Libra and, even though Saturn has turned retrograde, your cosmic climate is generally favorable. That's the only climate that's favorable at the moment. You've had the most extraordinary Fall weather there in the Northeast! One day both the temperature and the humidity are in the eighties. The next it hardly warms above fifty. Your aerobic exercise consists of changing clothes. You know first-hand what such flaky weather does to folks with fibromyalgia, arthritis, and chronic pain! You might consider offering your services to the National Weather Service. You could pit your body's built-in barometer against their fancy instruments any day!
This has been a "challenging" year for you and so many others. Take money, for example. (If you follow the news at all you'll know that lots of other people are!) Look at it this way: imagine you're a toddler riding in your mother's car. You're securely strapped into your safety seat which has a toy steering wheel that's attached to a pretend dashboard with a horn and a gear shift. But no matter how hard you try to drive the car, you have no actual control over the engine.
Today you will witness one of nature's stranger wonders. Looking out over the water in the bay, a flicker of motion will catch your eye. Because of the dawn hour, you will just figure it's the gentleman who occasionally sleeps overnight on his fancy fishing boat. Curious, you will set up the spotting telescope for a closer look. You will be amazed when you see a large female osprey (sea eagle) sitting high atop the boat's observation deck which has a canvas cover. She is diligently tearing strips of "sushi" from what appears to have been a fair-sized mackerel. Just then, a young male osprey swoops down carrying a bare branch from the shore. Ceremoniously, he drops it next to her and, when she doesn't show proper appreciation, he nudges it in her direction. Without so much as glancing in his direction, she continues to reduce her breakfast to a skeleton. Not to be discouraged, the male lifts off and flaps back to the shore, only to return shortly with another 3-foot branch which he drops atop the other before landing. The female seems not to notice, so the amorous male lifts off again and makes his desires clear by landing atop her this time. It doesn't get much clearer than that, but she doesn't even blink and casually gulps down another strip of sushi.
Still undaunted, the male osprey will spend the rest of the morning flying back and forth between the mainland and the boat, returning each time with more branches which he adds to the rapidly growing pile. With each trip he lands on the canopy and prods the branches and sticks into some semblance of what will be a sizeable nest. The female doesn't seem to mind, but she clearly doesn't seem interested in starting a family this late in the season. The male preens a bit and occasionally leaps into the air to perform a few cursory aerobatics in a vain effort to capture her attention. Not! Her breakfast reduced to a few bones and scales, she cleans claws and beak and decides a nice nap would be a fine idea. You will watch the strange courtship ritual through much of the day and wonder how the male osprey confused Springtime and mating with Fall and migration. Perhaps tomorrow they will share a mackerel before they head south?
Until tomorrow, then, good luck, stay well, and take sweet care of yourself.
Your efforts to influence the flow of money into and out of your life follow a similar principle. You are damning the day you climbed aboard Wall Street's economic car and it seems to be your fate to ride in a financial market gone bonkers. But fear not: though you seem fated to ride an endless roller-coaster of shrinking returns and experience more than a fair share of hair-raising moments, you are safely strapped in and you won't fall out.
Return To: Forecaster Horoscopes - Part 1
