Self-indulgent Sat. & Sun. #7 Christmas Past and Present

As Christmas is rapidly approaching #7 in this Self-indulgent series is going to be a re-run of a post I wrote in 2008 - it almost seems tailor-made for today. For links to previous posts in this series see #6 where earlier links are included.

Looking back over the years - and I have lots to look back over - Christmas stands as a kind of milepost. It's a focal point when a pattern of change can be identified. In some ways, the pattern could be equated to the cycle of the zodiac, as of course, can our whole life's cycle.

The earliest Christmases I recall, I shall call them the Aries ones, were spent at my maternal grandparents' home in a tiny village, where I was sent during the worst period of the war years in the UK, safe from the bombing of the city where my parents lived and worked. My parents would make a last minute bus journey the 20 miles or so on Christmas Eve so we could all be together for "the day".

My grandmother (right) was a wonderful cook. With the few facilities she had in those days, I can hardly imagine how she managed to put such delicious meals on her table. She often said that she and I had a "special bond" - it didn't extend to inheriting her culinary prowess though! Water came from a pump in the yard, direct from an underground spring. The only oven she had was at one side of the big black fireplace, powered by coal and wood fires, at the other side, a tank for heating water.
No refrigerator, food was kept out in a building called "the wash-house" where a boiler for boiling water and equipment for washing clothes was also kept. Earliest memories come from a time before the grandparents had electric light, when I went off to bed with a candle, and rooms were lit by oil lamps. I used to be given an early present each Christmas Eve, a book - the "Rupert Book" into which my little head was thrust for hours on end, reading about the adventures of a little bear and his friends, as I waited for Mum and Dad to arrive.

As the cycle moved around to Taurus and Gemini, Christmases evolved into bigger family gatherings, accompanied at times by school friends, both sets of grandparents, occasional aunts and uncles. Sometimes there was carol singing with a group of friends around the town on Christmas Eve, attending midnight service, or a Christmas morning service, then back to Dad's excellent cooking - he was the head cook of our family, after grandma retired from her post. Traditional, sociable, predictable - Christmases then were all those things.

Cancerian Christmases were fewer in number - they involved my retiring into a shell, for a variety of reasons. Working in hotels for a brief period in my life, I'd find that after all the hard work and long hours put in during the run up to Christmas, we staff were often to be found exhausted and alone in lowly staff accommodation, too tired to get together. I remember one particular Christmas evening walking out alone around the city where I worked, gazing longingly into the windows of houses where families celebrated together. I'd be home in the next day or two though, when my parents and I enjoyed a delayed celebration, also in honour of their wedding anniversary on 27 December. Another Christmas day around this period, I clearly recall, was spent alone in a cramped apartment, with a can of chicken breast a loaf of wholemeal bread, and a radio. I remember that much, but have no recollection of how it came about - something connected with my disastrous first marriage I think. Best forgotten!

So.... on to the Leo Christmases which developed as my life changed, accompanied by a new partner, a new job, and an altogether brighter frame of mind. Christmases at the office were fun - always. Some years we'd have a fancy dress party (that's me, under the clock, as Dick Whittington!) Sometimes we'd organize a special quiz or other years just a buffet with plenty of wine.

One Christmas a bright spark in the office persuaded the chairmen (all respected lawyers) to act in our version of a pantomime - "Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp". A few in-jokes were included in the much-adapted scripts to further engage an already enthusiastic audience of staff and uninvolved chairmen.

This is one of my favourite treasured Christmas memories. Magical! They were all such good sports. Most have now "gone before" to the great tribunal in the sky, others are High Court Judges.






Virgo/Libra/Scopio Christmases cover a long period of very mixed flavours. My parents were growing older, they lived at a distance for much of the period, but my partner and I always spent most of Christmas time with them, as much as my job would allow. Tensions arose sometimes, as they are wont to do among most family groups.

But many years saw beautiful Christmas-times, trouble-free and filled with love and good humour. We'd spend hours singing songs and carols and recording them on a tape machine. I still have a couple of the tapes but I find it difficult to listen to them even now, so many years later. Photographs are fine - but those so familiar, long gone voices always bring on the tears.


After my Dad died in 1992, we spent each Christmas with my mother (below), usually at our home.

Tensions arose more frequently during these years. There was almost always one scarily passionate argument, where I found myself in the middle, loving them both, trying to appease both sides. Eventually things would calm down to an uneasy peace. After my mother died in 1997, my late partner and I spent quiet times together at Christmas, some gentle and precious memories of his last years remain, his health began to slowly deteriorate. Then death visited once more, not long after my last Scorpio Christmas.


Sagittarius Christmases have found me here in the USA - 5000 miles from Christmases of yore, with a new husband and family.

Christmases here are bright and happy. A family get together on Christmas Eve, then, weather permitting the husband and I like to take a drive to Mount Scott with a pack of cheese sandwiches, some fruit and soft drinks, and eat our version of Christmas Dinner surveying the Oklahoma countryside from 2000ft up, followed by a leisurely drive home through the wildlife refuge, hoping to greet some buffalo or long horned cattle, or even a colony of prairie dogs. Our new tradition!

Aquarius Christmas? Well, maybe the Christmases I've been blogging come into this category. Or perhaps my Aquarius and Pisces Christmases are still to come.



HAPPY CHRISTMAS (when it comes) Y'ALL!!
I hope all your Christmases are as happy as my happiest ones.
Know that any less happy ones will give way to joy again.

Seasonal Arty Farty-ish Friday - at Home

Our usual Christmas bits and pieces, all but one bought from thrift or junk/vintage stores over the years. The red piece on the mantle shelf came from Hobby Lobby's sale years ago, before I fell out with them. (No lights.)

Living room (part of) - Random collection of "stuff" annually stuffed into my tall golden vase which houses anything seasonal I can get hold of.

After that photo was taken a little dream catcher has been added:

A pretty silver ornamental pretend tree which once upon a day lit up - I rescued it in a junk store for $4 - it no longer lights but I think it feels grateful to be off a dusty top shelf in a junk store.

My "Black Magic Woman" gets to hold some faux greenery and berries:

Not quite le tout ensemble - can't fit the rest in:

Outside - on front porch a home-made wreath and a Santa who wobbles merrily on his spring; an old wooden Santa hangs on a side wall - he always looks rather surprised at being woken from his 11 month sleep.

Unwrapping the Christmas Gift

For ancient Romans 17th December marked the first day of their last major winter festival : Saturnalia, in honour of their god Saturn. There are already a handful of posts on Saturnalia, accessible from the Label Cloud in the sidebar. Let's see what else can be dredged up on the topic!

One of the major ingredients of our time's Christmas celebrations is the giving and receiving of gifts. Christians might suppose that this tradition stems from the story of the 3 Wise Men visiting the baby Jesus, bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh - not sure that's true, but seems likely. There's another reason though. Saturnalia. As well as a holiday from school for pupils, the establishment of a special market; freedom to gamble for all, slaves included; less restraints on drinking and more wine available to slaves; official dress (togas) not worn but all wore the pilleus -freed man's hat. [I wonder if this is the root of those darned paper hats beloved of Christmas party givers - in Britain if not in the USA?] Slaves were exempt from punishment and allowed to disrespect masters; also...getting to it now....another tradition of Saturnalia was the buying and giving of presents.

Lists of "what to buy for...whomever" in Roman times included: writing tablets of various kinds, dice, nuckle [sic] bones, moneyboxes, combs, toothpicks, a hat, a hunting knife, an axe, various lamps, balls, perfumes, pipes, a pig, a sausage, a parrot, tables, cups, spoons, items of clothing, statues, masks, books, pets.
(Information from Martial Epigrams Book 14 (c. 84 or 85 A.D.)

So, take Saturnalia's traditions, Sol Invictus celebrations, northern traditions of Santa Clausian activity and evergreen trees, add Christianity, stir briskly, leave to marinate for many centuries, and serve well seasoned!

Robert Pinsky and The Refinery "palace on the water"

I discovered poet Robert Pinsky a couple of weeks ago, posted his poem December Blues
on 3 December. Wikipedia tells me that

Robert Pinsky (born October 20, 1940) is an American poet, essayist, literary critic, and translator. From 1997 to 2000, he served as Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress. Pinsky is the author of nineteen books, most of which are collections of his poetry. His published work also includes critically acclaimed translations, including The Inferno of Dante Alighieri....

Here's another of his poems - this one fascinated me - I needed to read it over and over, loving the feel of it, the words, trying to grasp overall meaning - which, really is explained in those initial lines, in quotation marks.

THE REFINERY
by Robert Pinsky


". . . our language, forged in the dark by centuries of violent
pressure, underground, out of the stuff of dead life."

Thirsty and languorous after their long black sleep
The old gods crooned and shuffled and shook their heads.
Dry, dry. By railroad they set out
Across the desert of stars to drink the world
Our mouths had soaked
In the strange sentences we made
While they were asleep: a pollen-tinted
Slurry of passion and lapsed
Intention, whose imagined
Taste made the savage deities hiss and snort.

In the lightless carriages, a smell of snake
And coarse fur, glands of lymphless breath
And ichor, the avid stenches of
Immortal bodies.

Their long train clicked and sighed
Through the gulfs of night between the planets
And came down through the evening fog
Of redwood canyons. From the train
At sunset, fiery warehouse windows
Along a wharf. Then dusk, a gash of neon:
Bar. Black pinewoods, a junction crossing, glimpses
Of sluggish surf among the rocks, a moan
Of dreamy forgotten divinity calling and fading
Against the windows of a town. Inside
The train, a flash
Of dragonfly wings, an antlered brow.

Black night again, and then
After the bridge, a palace on the water:

The great Refinery--impossible city of lights,
A million bulbs tracing its turreted
Boulevards and mazes. The castle of a person
Pronounced alive, the Corporation: a fictional
Lord real in law.

Barbicans and torches
Along the siding where the engine slows
At the central tanks, a ward
Of steel palisades, valved and chandeliered.

The muttering gods
Greedily penetrate those bright pavilions--
Libation of Benzene, Naphthalene, Asphalt,
Gasoline, Tar: syllables
Fractioned and cracked from unarticulated

Crude, the smeared keep of life that fed
On itself in pitchy darkness when the gods
Were new--inedible, volatile
And sublimated afresh to sting
Our tongues who use it, refined from oil of stone.

The gods batten on the vats, and drink up
Lovecries and memorized Chaucer, lines from movies
And songs hoarded in mortmain: exiles' charms,
The basal or desperate distillates of breath
Steeped, brewed and spent
As though we were their aphids, or their bees,
That monstered up sweetness for them while they dozed.

It's about the metaphorical refining of language isn't it?

A bit of reverse ekphrasis ? (Click on it to see full image). We came across this when out and about one day, probably somewhere in Texas.

Robert Pinsky is featured in several brief YouTube videos, I especially enjoyed these two: one is about words and language, the other about himself and his place of birth.

The Sunny Side of Sun Sign Astrology

Digging around in the 2006 archives I came across this from December of that year. Although I often say "there's no such thing as an Aquarian, a Sagittarian, a Taurean" etc. etc. I never forget that I owe my many years of interest and enlightenment in the subject to Sun sign astrology and Sun sign astrologers. These words remain my opinion:

I'm often puzzled and irritated when reading the critical thoughts of "serious" astrologers about other astrologers who specialise in Sun sign astrology.

What is their problem!? Sun sign astrologers play a big part in keeping "serious" astrologers in business. I'd guess that 9 people out of 10 who contribute to the livelihood of "serious" astrologers, through personal consultations, or purchase of their books, are first drawn to the subject via Sun sign columns, or books (such as Linda Goodman's) based on Sun sign astrology. It ill-behoves one to bite the hand that feeds him/her.

Even the worst astrology columns in local newspapers, and there are some really bad ones, serve to keep the concept of astrology alive. Good Sun sign writers such as Jonathan Cainer and Rob Brezsny, can inspire readers to delve deeper into the subject, whilst offering regular doses of inspiration and wisdom, rather than out and out predictions of the "tall dark stranger" kind.

It is possible, of course, to get into what I call "the Sun sign rut", but anyone sensitive to astrology will soon find a way out of that rut. Those less sensitive will still find plenty to play with among the Sun signs, and this is definitely better than nothing. Knowledge of traits attributed to the 12 zodiac (Sun) signs is helpful when moving deeper into astrology -time is not wasted reading Linda Goodman's books, or any other descriptions of the 12 signs.

The reason Sun sign astrology remains popular, and that people at parties still love to ask "What's your sign", is because there is a golden nugget of truth there. It doesn't shine through as brightly in every person, but it's always there. The Sun sign is an easy handle to grasp, a clue to work with - and let's face it - it's fun!

"Serious" astrologers can take themselves far too seriously. It's obvious that astrology is not yet an exact science, nor anywhere near, and probably never will be. All astrologers are whistling in the dark, to some extent. Make it a friendly, happy tune, please, guys!

Music Monday ~ Going Ape on Monkey Day

It's Monkey Day y'all! Who knew?

Monkey Day is an unofficial holiday celebrated internationally on December 14. While the holiday is mainly about monkeys, it also celebrates other non-human primates such as apes, tarsiers, and lemurs. Monkey Day was created to spread awareness for the animals, and to show love and care for them.

Nothing else for it then... written and sung by Neil Sedaka, record released in 1959.

Words from Mark Twain, Letters from the Earth: Uncensored Writings....

“Man is the Reasoning Animal. Such is the claim. I think it is open to dispute. Indeed, my experiments have proven to me that he is the Unreasoning Animal... In truth, man is incurably foolish. Simple things which other animals easily learn, he is incapable of learning. Among my experiments was this. In an hour I taught a cat and a dog to be friends. I put them in a cage. In another hour I taught them to be friends with a rabbit. In the course of two days I was able to add a fox, a goose, a squirrel and some doves. Finally a monkey. They lived together in peace; even affectionately.

Next, in another cage I confined an Irish Catholic from Tipperary, and as soon as he seemed tame I added a Scotch Presbyterian from Aberdeen. Next a Turk from Constantinople; a Greek Christian from Crete; an Armenian; a Methodist from the wilds of Arkansas; a Buddhist from China; a Brahman from Benares. Finally, a Salvation Army Colonel from Wapping. Then I stayed away for two whole days. When I came back to note results, the cage of Higher Animals was all right, but in the other there was but a chaos of gory odds and ends of turbans and fezzes and plaids and bones and flesh--not a specimen left alive. These Reasoning Animals had disagreed on a theological detail and carried the matter to a Higher Court.”

Hmm - well, in that case how come this? - - -

Self-indulgent Saturday & Sunday #6

Self-indulgent #6 coming up (#5 is here, with earlier links to #1 to #4).

From here onward I'm dividing remaining stories into three segments: work/play/home & family. Starting today with what's likely to be the most boring segment: WORK:

As the bells rang in New Year 1971 I don't remember whether I was still in Berverley or had moved to be with Bill in Brighton, on the south coast of England. Detailed recollection has blurred. Never mind. Our sojourn in Brighton didn't last long. We moved back north, to Leeds after less than a year, then followed a further couple of years of general muddle and mis-direction. I eventually found a job in the Sales Office of a company who manufactured computer paper (that stuff with green and white lines and holes down each side - remember?) It was just secretarial work for the regional manager, and one or two representatives. This job was alright, though not very stimulating - undemanding. I was on my own in the office for much of the time. Following some reorganisation the Leeds office was closed after a couple of years, yours truly was made redundant. That redundancy did me a big favour. After haunting the Job Centre I eventually landed a post as Clerical Officer in the Civil Service.

I would remain in the Civil Service from July 1975 until retirement some 24 years later. My new job was in the Regional Office of what were then known as The Industrial Tribunals. These days they're called Employment Tribunals. I began as a straight-forward Clerical Officer, dealing with the administrative side of applications from people who had suffered unfair dismissal, or problems with redundancy payments, or had suffered racial or sex discrimination, or had problems relating to equal pay. After a few months the Regional Secretary asked if I'd enjoy "acting up": standing in as Tribunal Clerk when needed. I would, and did.

The Tribunal Clerk's job, back then, was usually carried out by Executive Officers. There were four EOs in the office to cover three tribunal rooms in Leeds, one in a nearby town and one in Hull, an hour's train ride away. I was often called on to assist - in fact it became more or less permanent. I didn't achieve actual promotion to Executive Officer status until the early 1980s, after moving to another department for a year to extend my experience. Once I passed the interview and achieved EO status I returned to the Tribunals and continued as Tribunal Clerk. I travelled out more often, sometimes even to one of the Tribunal offices in London, for weeks. The job was fascinating. I understand that things have changed quite a bit since my day so can relate only my own experience of the job.

The Tribunal Clerk would first meet the parties: applicant, respondent and their representatives (lawyers/union reps) and witnesses. Procedure had to be explained, details taken, questions answered, nerves calmed. The parties were then ushered into a Tribunal Room. Tribunal hearings were open to the press and public. The photograph below is of a mock tribunal set-up, but gives a general idea of the type of scene in a typical Tribunal room.

Hat-tip HERE

Tribunals consisted of a Chairman (a well-respected lawyer or judge) some were permanently with the Tribunal Office, others part-time; and two lay-members drawn from a list of people with some knowledge and standing in the commercial, industrial or service worlds, one from what could be termed "the employer's side" and one from "the employee's side" - usually the latter was a Union official or someone with the same type of experience; the former perhaps someone from Chamber of Commerce or an ex-employer of some standing.

As the Chairman and Members entered the room the parties and onlookers were asked to "Stand please!" Seated once more the hearing proper began. In those early years the Clerk remained in the room throughout, took notes, administered the Oath to witnesses, handed exhibits to the Tribunal Chairman and Members. Hearings ranged in length from a full day to several days (occasionally weeks) of evidence. Observing the skill of the Chairman in delivering his detailed decision, after discussions with the Lay Members, having absorbed all the evidence presented with minimal notes to assist, was always absolutely fascinating to me.

As time went on duties and procedures changed. Actual dates are foggy, but by late 1980s the work of the office had grown so much that a move to larger premises became essential. We weren't fully computerised until, I think, the early 1990s, but even then most paper documents were retained. We were being involved in different categories of cases. Clerical Officers were trained to take over the job of Tribunal Clerks, while the Executive Officers, myself included, became section managers.

I was chosen to manage the "Listing Section" consisting of between 5 and 7 Clerical Officers. I was responsible for listing cases to be heard, on a certain date, in a given location, always listing some "spare" cases to make certain the tribunal was not left twiddling their thumbs if the primary case settled at the last minute - as happened regularly. My aim was to keep the Tribunal Rooms filled, and "earning their keep". It was my job, also, to allocate each case to a set of Chairman and Members, booking the Chairmen (if part-time) and the lay-members - all by telephone following up with a notice, and ensuring the case parties, chairmen and members all arrived at the right place on the right date at the correct time. When a last-minute settlement happened another set of parties had to be alerted, often with very little notice. There was lots of room for error, making it necessary to be ultra careful and accurate, always, or things could become very hairy very quickly! Mine could be a stressful job, nobody else wanted it, but I loved it - and though I say it myself, I was good at it - it suited me. The staff management side had to be done too, of course. I didn't enjoy having to write copious amounts of critical and/or back-slapping "stuff" about my team once a year - but it had to be done.

My section was also responsible for dealing with requests for postponement of hearings, and other mailed-in enquiries, and for answering phone calls relative to same. This could, on occasion, become quite lengthy and difficult, especially if a chairman had refused a request for postponement of an important case! I still clearly recall taking such a call just before leaving the office one evening. The caller argued and on and on. I was alone in the office. The whole building had been locked up by the time I'd placated the caller sufficiently; I couldn't find the caretaker to let me out! Trapped! I phoned Bill to tell him I'd be late - and I was, very late. Wandering around 7 or 8 floors looking for another live body I eventually heard the sound of a lone cleaner somewhere, tracked them down and was given the caretaker's phone number.

In time I became senior of the Executive Officers in the office and as such was responsible for taking charge of the whole office in the Manager's absence. I'd sometimes wondered if I could achieve promotion to the next management grade, HEO, and did attempt one interview, for a post as Conciliation Officer (a different but associated department dealing with arbitration and settlements). Not being a driver was a strike against me, but not a complete no-no - that'd be my age at the time. A lot of costly training would have to be undertaken, and it'd go to waste on someone with just a few years to go before retirement. Retirement was at 60 for Executive Officers and above, and was not too far away for me at that point.

If anyone's up for a bit of light reading, here are links to a couple of fairly recent reports of Tribunal hearings in Leeds - my old stomping ground - to give you an idea of what's what:

www.thirdsector.co.uk

and www.dailymail.co.uk

There were vacations - lots of 'em. More on some of these - and more, next time.

Arty Farty Friday ~ René Bull

René Bull. I'd never heard of him, but maybe I should have - he illustrated, among other publications, an edition of The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, something I've longtime loved. However, oddly my 2013 post featuring various illustrators of The Rubáiyát didn't mention him. He was just one of many brilliantly talented illustrators working during that same time period.

To see the whole Rubáiyát as illustrated by Bull go HERE then follow the link that says "Browse the rest of it here".


So...who was he?

From here.

René Bull was born in Dublin
on 11 December 1872; his parents weren't Irish, his father was English, his mother French. Bull initially set out studying engineering in Paris, but his innate artistic streak propelled him in other directions. He took drawing lessons from a then famous cartoonist, Emmanuel Poiré (pseudonym Caran d’ Ache).

Having settled in London in 1892 he drew cartoons for various well-known publications. In 1896 he became war artist for The Black and White news magazine, covered campaigns in the Afghan War, the Armenian Massacre and the Greco-Turkish War. He was wounded while covering the Boer War.

Back in England Bull worked as a book illustrator as well as cartoonist. His illustrations for The Arabian Nights (1912), The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám (1913) and Gulliver's Travels (1928) being some of his best known. He died in 1942.

For a little more detail and more illustrations see this 2010 post by Gordon Howsden at a blog called Bear Alley.

Examples of his illustrations:

ASTROLOGY

Born 11 December 1872, Dublin, Ireland. Natal chart set for 12 noon as no time of birth is known.

So many harmonious trines in Bull's chart! One might expect him to have led a rather charmed life. If he did there's nothing much online about it. Among the commentary following the article at Bear Alley (linked above) there is a note that "René Bull did marry and was divorced. (Katherine Shields was his wife). An acrimonious split, and even in later census returns he describes himself as "single" rather than "divorced", i.e. as if it never happened." So, in spite of all those harmonious trines it seems he encountered much the same problems as the rest of us!

From his natal chart, in general, I suspect he was an amiable, practical kind of guy, industrious in his chosen calling - making art. That's indicated by the trine from his Sagittarius Sun to creative Neptune. Travel-loving Sagittarius Sun could also be credited for the ease with which Mr Bull was able to illustrate so many scenes from foreign lands, many of which he had, himself, experienced during his work as illustrator in war zones.

His practical nature shows through Mercury, Saturn and Venus in Capricorn, with Moon somewhere in Taurus, Jupiter in Virgo - all Earth signs. He had no planet in a Water sign, which reflects a nature led strongly by practicality rather than emotionality - though the sign rising at time of his birth could, possibly, indicate otherwise.

Mercurial Mutterings

Over the years I've muttered much about Mercury - a few examples follow:

I feel that Mercury is such a major factor in our personalities, yet it's overshadowed in popular astrology by Sun, Moon and ascendant. Nothing works without Mercury, it's the essential ingredient in almost everything you can think of, it's working all the time. Whether we're sitting alone, reading, typing, listening, watching, Mercury is on duty. When we're in company Mercury is in overdrive. The same cannot be said of Venus, Mars, Saturn and Jupiter - they are around, but dormant in some situations, their territory is more specific.
I think that a person's Mercury placement often plays a stronger part in how they are perceived than their Sun, Moon or even their ascendant. It's definitely my favourite planet.
(From an early post of mine Dec 2006)

Where Mercury is placed in the chart with regard to the chart angles and astrological houses, as well as the zodiac sign, has to be considered, but wherever it is found it should be counted, in my opinion, as a more important factor in the personality of the chart holder than is usually given credit.



From an October 2009 post: A quote from Robert Hand in his book Horoscope Symbols:

Mercury is often underplayed in astrological writing. In part this may be because it is not often an obvious source of difficulty to people. Also, I suspect, people find its symbolism less exciting than that of some other planets. Yet it is a symbol of immense importance. It is connected to the mind, especially the logical and reasoning capabilities, and to all forms of communication".

How we communicate is such a huge part of who we are, it colours the perception of those we meet, it's almost always the first thing others notice about us - it's instant.


And from January of 2008 (for fun):

Mercury is the planet most involved in communication, so the sign in which it's found in our natal charts could indicate how we'd be most inclined to end e-mails or, trying to be seasonal, Christmas messages to friends and/or lovers, via pen or keyboard.





A few ideas:

Mercury in Aries: Yours in haste, catch you later,

Mercury in Taurus: With much love,

Mercury in Gemini: More chat soon, stay tuned,

Mercury in Cancer: Cuddles, kisses and lots of love,

Mercury in Leo: Signing off with a warm embrace,

Mercury in Virgo: Yours,

Mercury in Libra: Thinking of you with affection,

Mercury in Scorpio: Always be mine alone, as I am yours,

Mercury in Sagittarius: Huge warm hugs,

Mercury in Capricorn: Sending love,

Mercury in Aquarius: Love and peace,

Mercury in Pisces: Wrapping you in tender wishes.


PS - Back in the days when the husband and I used to correspond by e-mail, his usual mode of signing off was (he has Mercury conjunct Saturn in Pisces) : "Yerbasicfred".

Beginning of the End for Trump?

Has Donald Trump eventually self-destructed ? This week candidate currently leading in the polls for the Republican presidential nomination called for a "total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States".

Huffington Post listed some of the black marks already "blotting his copybook":

1) His enthusiasm for creating a database of all Muslims in the United States.

2) His ongoing lies about Muslims in New Jersey celebrating 9/11.

3) His status as birther-in-chief, cynically sowing doubt about President Obama's legitimacy as the duly elected President of the United States.

4) His misogyny...........

5) His xenophobia and scapegoating of immigrants, including his lies about Mexican immigrants and his ardent desire to deport millions of undocumented immigrants.

6) His unmistakable passion for bullying. Again, there's no shortage of examples, but you could start with his defense of supporters who roughed up a protester at one of his rallies or his ridiculing of a disabled New York Times reporter.

He's not funny any more - if he ever was. He has leadership potential, I've thought this from the get-go, but leadership of what? We are now finding out. Hasn't he surely gone too far this time?

Algol, Master of Oz, and Master of Space & Time - Oh my!

The Wiz Live! was aired on NBC last week - we watched and enjoyed. Performances, costumes and scenery were excellent - a wonderfully colourful and artistic production of a new adaptation of the 1975 Broadway musical The Wiz, a soul/R&B reinterpretation of L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

The show reminded me that years ago I'd looked at L.Frank Baum's natal chart, read a little about his life and discovered a coincidence with another natal chart I'd been preparing, a coincidence involving Fixed Star Algol.

L. Frank Baum was born 15 May 1856 in Chittengo, New York. Chart (below) is set for 12 noon - no time of birth known.

In 1856 Algol would have been at 24.05 Taurus, conjunct Baum's natal Sun.

From a bio of Baum at Biography.com

Baum's education began with tutors at home in his early years. At the age of 12, he went to the Peekskill Military Academy. Baum left the school after a health crisis two years later, apparently suffering from some type of heart condition. Never earning a high school degree, he spent his early adulthood exploring his interest in acting and writing for the stage.

 L. Frank Baum chart

And here, at Literary Traveler

A rather sickly child who was both timid and shy, he kept to himself and made up imaginary places and playmates since he had to refrain from any kind of strenuous exercise due to his faulty, weak heart. Throughout Frank”s life, his health was a constant impediment, which became a looming presence and a major controlling factor. Although, it never impeded his creativity, drive and talent.

While preparing a 2007 post about Leon Russell, it emerged that he suffered a birth injury, causing a physical disability. Natally he has Saturn conjunct Algol.

Born on 2 April 1942 in Lawton, Oklahoma at, according to Astrodienst 1.22 AM.

 Leon Russell chart

Russell credits his artistic development to a birth injury that damaged his upper vertebrae and left him slightly paralyzed on the right side of his body. “It gave me a very strong sense of duality,” he says. “It gave me an outlook into this plane that we live on and if I hadn’t had that, I’d probably be selling cars in Paris, Texas.” Russell became one of the most sought after session musicians in Los Angeles during the 1960s, working with everyone from Frank Sinatra to Phil Spector and from Glen Campbell to the Byrds.
From PRI.org here

So, it appears that both the Master of Oz and the Master of Space & Time had something in common. Hardly conclusive evidence of Algol's potential, but it does make one pause and think. There are probably other combinations of factors which need to be in place in any astrological chart for Algol's influence to come to the fore. No doubt many people live all their lives in Algol's shadow without as much as a headache.

Music Monday ~ Sinatra Centenary This Week

12 December 2015 will be the 100th anniversary of the birth, in 1915,
of Francis Albert Sinatra. As stated in my post about Sinatra in 2011, I have idolised him since the 1960s. Appreciation of his singing was possibly the only thing I took from my first short and disastrous marriage to an Italian guy. Fortunately, both of my subsequent long-term partners have shared my love of Sinatra's music. It wasn't a prerequisite, it just seemed to happen that way - and it worked out well both times!

More from the 2011 post:

Sinatra turns every song he performs into a work of art. I use the present tense advisedly. For me, he will never die. The wonderful lyrics of Sammy Cahn, Johnny Mercer, Cole Porter and their ilk come instantly to life sung by Sinatra. His magic embellishes less classic offerings with a quality they perhaps do not deserve. He is able to take modern classics by Lennon and McCartney, George Harrison, Neil Diamond, Kris Kristofferson, etc. and turn them golden in a different way.

Frank Sinatra, in my eyes, could do no wrong. I am not interested in the scandals. What he did and does for his audience, while singing or acting (he was no slouch as an actor too, by the way) is all that matters.

"That old black magic" has me in its spell again and again whenever I watch a DVD of his shows or listen to one of his albums.

I have a theory that people are attracted to entertainers, writers, musicians, actors, well-known figures whose charts contain some correlation with their own. By some peculiar means we are able to "sense" the connection, even via screen, audio, or literature. I've found in my own experience that the clearest and longest lasting attractions involve the closest astrological connections.

Note: when commenter mike recently alerted me to the fact that there were several links between my own natal chart and that of Frank Sinatra, I'd forgotten that I'd been aware of these, or some of them, when writing the 2011 post.

My theory holds good in Sinatra's case. His Sun was at 19.13* Sagittarius conjoins my Venus at 19.59* Sagittarius ! His Mercury is at 17* Sagittarius too. His Moon at 5.07 Pisces conjoins my natal Jupiter at 6.03 Pisces.

"It's such an ancient pitch, But one I wouldn't switch, 'Cos there's no nicer witch than.........."

Commenter Gian Paul, back in 2011 observed that

"Neptune conjunct his MC early in Leo certainly must have "had a word" in him becoming a singer (instead of maybe a trumpetist). No doubt the songs he left us with (and especially the more sensitive women in this world) were engulfing. And they were not just "illusion" (Neptune). His unfortunate Saturn in 69, opposing his natal Venus, but trine Jupiter in Pisces, give him that heartfelt quality which pardons all the "Frankie he was".

The videos I posted back in 2011 have now all gone dark, possibly due to more stringent copyright purges since then. A few replacements - not yer usual Sinatra numbers, but some I especially like which may be generally less well-known:


The Song of the Sabia

I first heard this on a set of 3 cassette tapes I had, back in the UK, but lost them in our Great Fire of 1996. I never did find an exact replacement. This song remained in my memory; I was so happy to find it again on YouTube:

"All the plans I made to deceive myself, all the roads I made just to lose myself, all the love I made to forget myself, those mistakes I made just to find myself..."

Cycles

Astrology buffs know a thing or two about these!

A lovely song featured on one of his later CDs

You Will Be My Music

Music was Sinatra's highlight, movies were but a side-light for him, and they weren't all glitz and fizz. He starred in some darn good films, think From Here to Eternity, The Manchurian Candidate, The Man with the Golden Arm, The Joker is Wild, None but the Brave.....

Self-indulgent Saturday & Sunday #5

A short span again this week, it teeters around 1970. Previous episodes are at #1, #2, #3 and #4). In #4, I left myself in limbo, wandering around Lonely Corner, separated, unlikely to achieve divorce in the foreseeable future. I resolved to be pro-active.

One day, while picking up my newspaper and magazine from the newsagent's, I noticed a publication in the racks - The London Weekly Advertiser; I doubt it exists now, at least not in the form it was back in 1970. The publication was purely a forum for advertising items for sale, or services available around Britain - rather like a print version of E-bay or Craigslist. One section of the paper was dedicated to "Personal" adverts: people wanting to meet other people. Personal ads of this nature still exist, if not in print, then certainly on-line.

Should I? I bought the publication for several weeks before deciding yes, I should!

I wasn't about to respond to any adverts I'd found, but settled on drafting an ad of my own. I don't recall the exact wording but it included my age, gender, marital status, rough location, type of job I had, and type of friend I'd like to meet...oh, and my Sun sign. Wondering when astrology would rear its mystical head here were ya? I was at simple Sun sign level only at this point, so there'd be no astro-acrobatics!

I suspected that this escapade was all rather daring as I typed out my ad, but it was a while since I'd had an adventure. I sent it in, snail mail of course. It took a while to be published, even longer for replies to be posted back to me by the newspaper, who acted in place of a P.O. Box. I think I received around 8 or 9 replies in all. A few were discarded at once as being mildly objectionable or quite sweet but too obviously not my type. Eventually I was left with 3 letters which I reckoned merited a longer reply than the brief "thanks, but no thanks" type response.

By this time my "gung-ho" was rapidly gung-ing off. I wrote 3 nice letters back to the short-list, decided that should be that, and began thinking about a Plan B.

 Bill

I'd underestimated the persistence of one of the responders. He wrote back in reply to mine - I replied, again, that I'd changed my mind about the whole idea of meeting someone in this way. He wrote back - yet again. His handwriting was very attractive, nice writing style, sounded warm and sincere. He excused himself for being "a Taurus", asked me not to discard him on that reason alone. We corresponded for several weeks. He was living in the south of England, though by birth was Northern Irish, was quite a lot older than me, and asked me not to discard him solely on that account either. I decided he seemed interesting enough to be checked out on a quick day trip to London, using the fastest trains available. Setting out early I could just about make it there and back in a day, with a tiny bit of time to spare in the city.

He was waiting for me at King's Cross station. I still remember what he was wearing: dark green corduroy jacket, khaki slacks. Back then I always loved corduroy jackets for men. His jacket had a lot to answer for! There wasn't much time to see the sights, and I wasn't much interested in them anyway at that point. We spent some time in Piccadilly Square, ate a sandwich, chatted...about what? I don't recall. He had a wonderful, softly cultured, Northern Irish accent. I liked him. He asked that we, at least, remain friends. We did. And what's more, eventually spent the next 32 years together, 'til death us did part - though nobody ever declared those words over us in a marriage ceremony.

To be continued.