On Eating Humble Pie

Just a little over a year ago, I was an anti Star Sign kind of astrologer who spent an awful lot of time telling other astrologers why Star Signs were stupid and a complete waste of time. Until then, I never thought I'd see the day when I would give in and begin my own Star Sign column. I guess the impetus to give the old Star Signs a try came with the realisation that I didn't even know what it was like to actually spend some time writing a column. So I decided to take the Star Sign challenge which you can read about here. And the results here.

I can clearly remember thinking that I was setting myself up for a very big piece of humble pie but at the time, this was preferable to being the kind of person who runs her big mouth without actually knowing what she is talking about. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to anyone else that I'm still writing a Star Sign column every day--for free.

This is not to say I enjoy writing the daily column. Oh no--most days instead of jumping out of bed (a-hem) and hitting the keyboard doing something useful, I am drinking 3 or 4 cups of tea, playing on Facebook and bracing myself to write 2 sentences for each star sign. I can procrastinate with such pathetic skill that a full hour can pass before I feel ready to get on with things. And most days I think I have something better to do than write them.

But here's the thing:

My blog viewing stats before and after the star sign column

I can't argue with how much traffic the column brings to my other work. I easily get at least 100x more visits to these pages with links to my "real" work than I did when I wasn't writing them. This means that about 10,000 good people who stop in to read their Star Sign written by me have access to the external links to full articles, workshops and other things that I get up to: in other words, they are exposed to "real" astrology far more often than if I didn't write the column.

And what on earth is "real" astrology anyway? If you had asked me before I started writing the column, I would have told you that "real" astrology was a beautifully written piece demonstrating the functions of every planet, every aspect and every technique in astrology. In other words, articles loaded with obscure references that no one was going to take the time to read--not even fellow astrologers. And to be really honest, it was stuff I wasn't writing anyway. And if I did have the time to write these articles it would appear to be just as much bullshit as any Star Sign column.

So I'll bet you're wondering why I'm so touchy about this today.

Last night, I received my first ever criticism for writing a Star Sign column from a fellow astrologer. It was a moment I had been anticipating for some time (given that I had made myself such a big target by being anti Star Signs for so long) so I thought I would been prepared for it. The other astrologer said my column was "tacky" and that it undermined all my other good work and credentials.

I mean "ouch".

But how many times I have wondered, being highly qualified in the teaching profession, the value of saying again and again "a lot is two words", the differences between "there, their and they're" and the value of reading a "real" work of literature?  I have probably said something along these lines to my eager pupils at least once every lesson--and that is a very conservative estimate. I mean, why should I, having so heavily invested in my education, stoop so low as to even waste my breath on these ignorant heathens? Shouldn't I be showing off my in-depth knowledge of the Complete Works of Shakespeare or something? The answer is because the kids I teach just don't know any better and they aren't going to understand Shakespeare until they understand the basics of the English language. I know better and so I can teach them. It's what I do--and what every other teacher on the planet does. And I feel exactly the same way (now) about the Star Sign columns. Yes, I have more important things to do--but there is nothing more important than putting oneself in the front line by providing non astrologers with the opportunity to learn something. So it goes with the column: here's the Star Sign stuff and here's a way to find the more important stuff.

Another point is on the topic of practice. Writing a daily column essentially forces me to pick up an ephemeris and look at it and work with it and to put the meaning into every day language to be understood by a non astrologer. It's a bloody hard skill. But by the Great Goddess I got better and faster at doing it.

It's not unlike being a trumpet player--which I've been for 40 years.  I dislike practising scales--but if I don't do it, I wouldn't be much of a trumpet player. And if I don't do it often, I become a bad trumpet player very quickly. So I get out the Arban's (that's the trumpet Bible) and make myself practice. It's not the only way to become better and it certainly isn't fun to listen to or to do but it's efficient and effective. Ditto for the star sign column.

So I have faced up to being wrong about Star Sign columns for all but one of the 30 years I've been an astrologer. And I have to eat a big old piece of humble pie. But I'm going to wash it down with the fact that it's better to realise one's mistakes sooner rather than later.

Cheers!

Duh. . .delirium!

As experienced during my three week stay in Kolkata India. . .

I have no planets in earth signs (unless you count Uranus and Pluto and quite a few astrologers--including me--don't really count these in a natal chart). I've said this before but most people do have at least one planet in earth so therefore they can't understand the stupid shit I do sometimes. So this blog is for you people so you can watch out for people like me. What kind of stupid shit do I do? For example:

1) Assuming everyone has GOT to be way more organised than me and therefore I can rely on them to help me sort my shit out. Case in point? Recently I had to get a visa for India. Last year I waited a little too long and ended up getting stressed because it (which had been sent off with my passport) was taking so long. Come to find out, I had thrown away the delivery slip--and my passport (and visa) was waiting for me at the post office. Oh yeah, India visa part deux--this year I trusted India visa services to have way better internet than me. Did they? No and I ended up in near meltdown because I had to, yet again, wait until the last minute to get my visa.

2) Assuming everyone else will completely misunderstand my need for certain, shall we call them, security items. Yes I have a teddy. No not really but there are certain things I'm not going to let out of my sight for very long (my laptop is a given but that's fastened to my person most of the time and ditto for my passport). My toothbrush is always right where I can find it. Wherever I am in the world, I have to trust my toothbrush is where I put it and it's safely protected from contaminants (can't stand scuzzy teeth cuz I am paranoid about cavities). A pen, although it's true I may go through several over the course of week, is always where I can find it (never know when someone might want me autograph, ;)). My manners are always with me because I like people to think I'm nice (I mention manners for a reason--hold on). Something to wash my hands with because I hate having sticky fingers. You get where I'm going with this: I'm a woman of simple needs who easily loses track of shoes, clothes and knickers (a-hem) but the laptop, passport, pen and wet wipes are where I can find them.

3) Assuming everyone is as paranoid about their bank card as I am. Yes I'm compulsive wallet checker (my own that is). I generally have an awareness of how much I'm worth and whether or not I'm actually worth robbing. Generally speaking, I'm not worth the bother because I have no planets in earth and walk around in a financial fug.

4) Assuming that my body does not need much conscious care. I mean, what? It works so what's to worry about? I HATE taking tablets! I'll take any other form of anaesthesia--hate tablets. Oh I'm scared of needles!! I'll do anything to avoid needles (again I mention this for a reason)

So I started to get a headache last week after I had a bit of a meltdown. It got better eventually but was kind of always there in the background but it wasn't bothering me so I could ignore it. So Sunday rolls around and I'm starting to feel a little stressed: the noise was bothering me. In fact I was starting to think it was giving me a headache but I got a lot of work done this day--because people with no planets in earth tend to worry people with planets in earth will think they are lazy if they're not doing something.

I'm not feeling much better on Monday so I reckon the remedy for this is a pint of beer down at the "Restaurant Cum Bar"--because people with no planets in earth signs think they can just ignore their physical bodies as if they can forget they actually have one. I'm still working when I start to think I should wear my glasses more than I do. Where are my glasses (because being able to see should be more important than my teeth, right)? So when things get a little too blurry I think I should get some fresh air. In downtown Kolkata. Because surely all those people with more planets in earth signs are so much more conscious about the environment and would NEVER do stuff like allow fellow citizens to have a trillion petrol burning cars.

Anyway, by this time, I'm not feeling too clever. And I'm breathing in all those glorious fumes, metabolising a pint of strong Indian lager and ignoring the fact that I'm getting a little warm. Of course, I immediately put this down to the environment, not down to the fact that I'm starting to run a temperature. In fact, by the time I get back to the hotel, I'm feeling distinctly panic stricken because surely it must be down to the stupid ways I can't manage my life--due to lack of planets in earth--that I can 't have my daughter and my cats on the same continent as I am. I spent hours sitting in front of my laptop, frustrated because I can't write and wiping my nose because if cry I'm going to punish myself by not speaking to myself for the next couple of days. And when one is staying on one's own that can't happen. I never thought to myself "Alex, something ain't right. Ya think you better run those symptoms through google?"

About 10 minutes later, I'm barfing. What could be worse than barfing, on your own, in a foreign hotel, away from your mates with absolutely no one to talk to and share this experience with? Judging by my reaction, it was akin to being hanged, drawn and quartered. I tried to take a cold shower to cool off but my skin hurt. Probably because I so worked up--so I thought.

So I took a nap, thinking I'm probably over-tired and little over-excited. I wake up three hours later. My first thought? Having no planets in earth, I'm thinking "Oh my God, you lazy bastard! What will all those people with planets in earth signs think about you?" I get back to my laptop and I'm feeling hot and dizzy and I got this weird pain in my back. So what does someone with no planets in earth think? "Well you have been either sitting or laying down most of the day, you lazy git. Maybe you need a bit of yoga." So I do a little yoga and this weird pain in my back is getting to be a little distracting--and that's going to mean I won't be able to write. So now I'm angry with myself. My thought process:

"Jeez Alex, can't you do anything right? All you have to do is write--like you've always said you wanted to do--and you even screw that up. And you know why? Because you don't try hard enough (actually this might have been my Mars square Saturn talking)." So I do end up crying because I'm so pissed off with myself. It's out of character because generally speaking I'm a tough old bird.

So I tried to have a convo on the internet and the person I'm talking to asks me if I'm pissed.

Who? Me? Pissed? I mean the very idea!!

He tells me to go to bed so I do (actually I did try to put up a bit of a fight on this one but thought I was drifting in and out of sleep because my hearing and vision were playing up). Besides the headache and backache were getting hard to ignore and some sleep may be what I needed. Right? Fortunately I did have the foresight to place a bucket for puking next to me.

I wake up and there's a strange man in my room. But it's like I'm underwater or dreaming and can't even shout or scream. And everything hurts. But I managed to barf again. And go back to sleep. Smart eh?

I wake up again to someone shaking me. I hear the word "hospital". Or least I think I did. So I open my eye (I couldn't get the pair to coordinate) and there's a smiling man and another man I recognised as the waiter who brings me tea every morning. Eventually I worked out the man I didn't know was a doctor and he wants a urine sample.

I laugh.

I mean, are you bloody kidding? I barfed everything up! (see point number 2)

He motions for me to drink out of an opened bottle water.

Hahaha, laughs Ms No Planets in Earth Signs, I'm not so out of it that I'm going to drink out of an opened bottle of water.  He explains if I don't drink, I'm going to need to go to hospital and have an IV (see point 4 above).

Well why didn't you bloody well say so (point number 2 if you've forgotten)? I asked (I also asked and said a whole lot of other shit that I can't remember because I was pretty near delirious with a fever). The thermometer said 40 degrees Celsius!! Holy shit--I knew what that meant. So I drained the bottle.

Then promptly barfed.

The doctor held his head in his hands. He may have face palmed. He got another bottle of water, poured a bit out into a glass and added what looked like white powder. He held it out to me like I was stupid.

He did that head shake thing and told me it was sugar and salt. I was dehydrated. He needed to test my urine so he can work out what should be done with my barfing self. He told me, very sternly, to sip the water.

At this point of the story, can I just say despite the indignity of barfing in front of other human beings that I'm extremely grateful nothing was coming out of any other orifice?

So what do you know, half an hour later I'm ready to pee into his little vial. He goes into the bathroom and then comes back and tells me I have a kidney infection.

For a second, I'm dumbfounded. I have kidneys? I have heard of such things but having no planets in earth means that I walk around this planet thinking I don't have a human body.

There's a chemist next door and it was on the tip of my tongue to ask the old boy to pick me up some valium while he was there. Anyway I chickened out, he left and then returned with what I hoped was a prescription (having no planets in earth, I couldn't quite pull myself together to ask). Antibiotics and ibuprofen. The fever must come down, he said and added I really should stay in bed--which of course meant (having no planets in earth)--I was back at my laptop as soon as the door closed.

Once the coast is clear, the first thing I noticed is that my tarot cards are out on my desk. I'm paranoid about my cards. I always put them away. Why were they out? I read through some messages. Oh yeah, I tried to do a couple of "readings". I could only hope I didn't fuck anyone's life up. Now I'm kinda scared to touch my laptop lest my brain disengage again. On a positive note, I was pleased to note I didn't lose my ability to type when under such physical stress.

But I was really too ill to be up for more than a few minutes and ended up sleeping most of the day between barfing--because having no planets in earth means I keep forgetting my body can't process more than a sip of water at a time. But the tablets stayed down. Bummer I can't have beer or tea for the rest of the week. But the fever is coming down.

So that's what life without any planets in earth is pretty much like.

PS I'm absolutely fine now!

A Day in the Life of a Bad Cancerian

I lost the plot yesterday.

To those who know me well, perhaps this comes as a complete surprise as I'm so normally so calm, cool and collected.

OK, you can stop the giggling and listen to this little astrological tale.

For the past year or so, Jupiter has been my friend, my pal, my bosom buddy. Lately this friend has been totally broadsided by Pluto--you know, God of the Underworld. To make matters worse, my other buddy Mercury has been stationing on Pluto. 

Before we go any further, I just need to point out I really dislike it when people start blaming retrograde Mercury for everything from lost post to internet disruption to getting lost on the way to a party: Mercury doesn't cause that--people who aren't paying attention do. It's become an excuse: "oh I got stuck in traffic and it's all because Mercury is retrograde" as if traffic jams, delayed messages and dodgy internet connections never happen when Mercury is in forward motion. It's just ridiculous. Throw some empirical evidence in and the data nerd might pay attention.

Anyway, this story is different because Mercury was stationing (getting ready to change to forward direction again) on Pluto with a personal connection to my natal Jupiter.

So this past week, I've travelled across a continent (a big one at that) to be at a conference in India. I've have spent the past week pretty much under hot lights, getting my photo taken, getting bossed around, eating on schedule and getting lost in a 5 star hotel. Things are a little different to the way I like them to be, i.e. drinking tea all morning while I write, eating when I feel like and admiring sunsets.

Yesterday I just could not cope anymore. I was physically exhausted and rendered mentally incompetent. Decision making? Forget it! To top it all off, I had a splitting headache (I cannot even remember the last time I had a headache). In other words, I felt like shit. Really.

What had happened was I had booked some hotels to go to after the conference. These were online bookings with booking.com which has never let me down. Ever. But this is India. There are so many addresses no one knows where anything is. And I've been so busy with the conference I hadn't been able to sort out a sim card. I really didn't even know what that meant or why it was so important: until I needed to book a flight to Varanasi. Despite my best efforts, I just couldn't book a flight and suddenly felt very alone and helpless on this great big heaving continent full of people, horns, pollution and different languages. I also ended up losing--and paying for--my hotel bookings.

So I had a meltdown.

Nothing made sense to me anymore. Nothing! It took 3 people to talk me down (thank you Victor, Gopal and Julian) plus Michelle, Richard and Nick to assure me they had my back. I was totally ready to head back to the UK and get back to teaching until I was old enough to retire. My cats! My duvet! Yah, that's how freaked out I was. Get me back to where everything is familiar.

It was at that point I realised that perhaps I'm not such a bad Cancerian after all. All my life, I have denied being a Cancerian because I'm not even a little home-loving and shy. Or so I thought. Put me under (a lot) of stress and I just want my mommy (OK things never got that bad).

So these are a few things I learned about myself when I experience extreme conditions:

1. I hate packing
2. My hearing goes funny when I'm stressed
3. My decision making process, dodgy at the best of times, goes tits up
4. I have some damn good friends.
5. I really need to remember all this

First the Ocean, Now the Sky

I've woken up this morning with the distinct feeling that the universe cracked while I was sleeping. And maybe it did. Yesterday the Moon-Venus opposition was on my nodal axis and the midpoint of transiting Mercury and Pluto were on my natal Jupiter.

I knew something profound was about to happen yesterday at 1:22pm (astrologers always take note of these things). I had been contemplating going to the beach but I had this uneasiness about what the ocean had to say. It wasn't a fear, it was just an uncertainty about how much change one person can tolerate in such a short space of time.

As I was thinking this, a small feather floated from the sky--and I kid you not--landed near my feet. My first thought was of my grandmother. So I picked up the feather and thanked my ancestors. Like a good Ojibwa. And then I was overcome with such intense homesickness--the first bout I've had since being away for so long--that tears sprang to my eyes.

Home. Where is that, I wondered.

I'm such a bad Cancerian (or so I thought) that I couldn't even answer that question. I've been wrestling with a certain terror that I've managed to scatter the people I love all over the globe and the only way I can communicate with them is via Facebook. I felt ashamed. What the hell am I doing? I need to go home.

And then the sky spoke. This feather, this feather that floated from the sky from the wing of some unseen  bird, reminded me that I am home. This is it. Home. I am home. Wherever I lay my hat.

A few hours later and I'm on the beach with two South African Sangomas watching the first sunset of the Summer Solstice. One of the sangomas had not worn shoes in over 20 years and he made me wonder what it would be like to feel the earth under one's feet for so long without the barrier of shoes. He also had long, uncut hair. I asked him if it was in his tradition to cut hair in grief as it for the Ojibwas. My own hair was pretty much down to my waist when I lost relatives and cut my hair very short. I wore my grief and was reminded of it every time I went to pull my non existent hair from my collar. My hair is just starting to grow back but I still remember my grief when I look in the mirror. The sangoma told me that he last shaved his head when his father died. Then we both laughed at our good fortune to have growing hair. How fleeting life is and how long is the recovery from grief. But now we can laugh because we understand what it means to regrow from loss. 

The sangomas had brought me to a place to watch the sunset. It felt like the edge of the world. Behind us were "The Twelve Apostles" hills and before us was the ocean. There was a very light mist as the light of the dying sun turned the atmosphere to lavender. When it was getting dark, I took my shoes off so I could feel the rocks beneath my feet.

And I knew I was home.

And I also knew that wherever life takes me I am home. Here. Now. I am safe, balanced and far heartier than I had thought.

And the other thing I know is that I too am a sangoma. It might be known by a different name in different languages but by the Great Goddess, I now know I am--and have always been--a sangoma. I had just forgotten.

And it's great to be home.

I know this because a seemingly insignificant feather floated down from the sky and landed at my feet.

On the Nature of True Intentions

So as I'm on a writing frenzy, I've been spending a lot of time at the charming Cape to Cuba restaurant near to the Hemingway Bar (and no, I don't tend to drink during the day!). My line of thinking was that being in a place named after one of my favourite (and I have so many) writers was going to be good for the creative thinking process.

After spending so much time sorting through heaps of my writing and realising that most of it is useable, I'm now pretty much convinced that I am indeed a writer.

I used to be very reluctant to call myself a writer but I remembered this week that the first time I called myself as such was a year or so ago as a I sat in a beautician's chair waiting to get my hair cut.  I hate getting my hair cut: I hate the expense, I hate the process and I hate the small talk with strangers who have the power to transform my appearance into something I'm going to love or hate for the next several months. For many years, I had avoided hairdressers and had let my hair grow long enough to almost sit on. But in the Ojibwa tradition, hair represents your life and its growth. It's only cut to demonstrate grief. I had been having a pretty awful year. I was in grief--I had lost a beloved aunt and uncle with weeks of each other--and I was so unhappy in my job. When the inevitable question of "What do you do for a living?" came up, I blurted out: "I'm a writer" to avoid saying I was a teacher (I almost never tell strangers I'm an astrologer--but that's a story for another day). I then thought: "Blimey, I had better make a note of the time for that!" 

I had always resisted any temptation to call myself a writer. It just seemed so pretentious. But when one declares something--whether it is planned (elected in astrological terms) or it just happens, it is an important moment. And often very, very revealing.

This is the chart of that moment with today's transits along the outer circle in green:

Now there were several things I knew about the astrology of the moment without looking up anything. I knew that Jupiter had just finished its final return to its natal position in my chart a few weeks before when I had felt so antagonised that I walked out of my job. And I vaguely knew Jupiter was transiting my natal Moon but that's pretty much it. I had absolutely no idea that the asc/des axis was at 0 Libra, nor did I realise the Moon was in Virgo in the 12th house and ruling the MC! And look at the Sun in Gemini in the 9th!! Jupiter in Cancer in the 10th!! Mercury in Aries in the 7th! A dignified Venus!  I don't think I could have elected a better chart for a writer. I could have done without Saturn in the 2nd opposing said Venus but hey ho, all charts have to have Mr Misery Guts somewhere (like Prince Charles who has it in his second too). 

Transit wise, Jupiter, ruling the 3rd, is on that Moon in Virgo, about to cross the ascendant. It's a Mars conjunction picking up that cardinal T square I had been warning everyone about a couple of days ago. Good old Uranus--bang on my natal part of self (told you I was a stroppy cow) with the god of writing, Mercury transiting. Saturn is transiting the 3rd house--what a great place for a hard working writer. Pluto in the 4th I have natally as well but it is opposite my natal Jupiter. And look at Neptune in the 6th!! The writer loses herself in her work.

It really is time for me to get my stuff "out there" so I'm going to open up the field a bit by posting some fiction here. It's a short story called A Cappella and is about a musician who finds her voice. "A Cappella" comes from the Italian for "in the manner of the chapel". It's unaccompanied or solo music. I like the way it fits in the Jupiter themes of my experience of life these days. And I think the story fits the transits.

The Writer's Life

I have FINALLY had the time to sort through my blogs (I have four) and website. And what a job it was--about two weeks worth of sorting. Dear God, I write a lot--and yesterday I did another 4,000 words on my upcoming book.

So this might lead you to ask: what on earth are you going to do with all that material?

Well I'm glad you asked.

About a year ago, I started writing daily horoscopes as an experiment. Up until that point, I had always been very snotty about Sun Sign astrology but once I saw what it did to my viewing stats, I had a change of heart. The results of my experiment are here. However the downside was that the daily column was clogging up my blog and Facebook page so I decided I was going to have a separate blog, twitter account and Facebook page for them. And then I got the grand idea that I was going to bring out 12 little year ahead books and I got as far as the New and Full Moons before life just took over. But it's all stuff I can still use but I decided to keep it free. You can pop in daily for updates using the links below. I aim for a short and punchy style.

Here are the links (and don't even get the idea into your head that I'll be doing this every day):
Aries featuring Susan Boyle
Taurus featuring Princess Charlotte
Gemini featuring the divine Barry Manilow
Cancer featuring Tom Hanks
Leo featuring Whitney Houston
Virgo featuring Buddy Holly
Libra featuring The Big Bopper
Scorpio featuring Margaret Mitchell
Sagittarius featuring Anna Nicole Smith
Capricorn featuring Mel Gibson
Aquarius featuring Paul Newman
Pisces featuring Steve Jobs

Then, frustrated with not being able to promote my book as much as I should at the same time I was teaching, I started a Growing Pains blog in June 2015. The idea was to write about Jupiter and Saturn using celebrity profiles, updating research on the peculiar and particular problems in adolescence and just generally spouting off about how brutal the teaching profession is. You know like questioning why some fool gets paid stupid money for kicking a ball from one end of a field to another while the female dominated careers of teaching and nursing are paid shit and the workers are treated like shit. Of course, like this blog, things got put on the back burner. But I've been updating daily as part of the book writing--and I'm working on three updates for Growing Pains: a teacher's edition, a pupil's edition and a parent's edition. They are coming out in March 2016. Note the optimism.

As I said, I write a lot. And this includes fiction. So I have another blog that I was using for the National Write a Novel in Month (NaNoWriMo) 2013. There's a full novel there that I wrote in a month. Yes a month. 2000 words that I did on a daily basis in November 2013. And there's a hell of a lot more fiction that I've yet to work out what to do with. Watch this space--I'm going to self publish some more stuff.

That leaves this blog. It started out with jokes about aspects and my "give me any aspect and I'll give you a joke" challenge with a few personal observations thrown in. I don't know--I looked down on Sun Sign columns but would tell corny jokes at the drop of a hat. Anyway, I've outgrown all that and this blog has evolved into something I'm glad to have the space to keep going. So this is my personal blog with updates about what I'm getting up to, where I am and where I'm going to. I was bowled over by how much material had accumulated in 7 years and by how much is actually quite recyclable. Saturn squares, eh?  They do challenge you to examine your work.

Work wise, I'm seeing clients, promoting myself (yeah, the Leo in me loves that) and I'm meeting the locals by doing tarot and palm readings. In other words, I've come full circle, back to the days when I did Psychic Fairs and the like. Back then I didn't have the confidence to make the leap of faith to actually make a living out of it but we'll just have to see how I get on. Thank you Transit Pluto opposite my natal Jupiter for the kick up the jacksy.

When I'm not living the writer's life hunched over my laptop, I'm in the ocean getting all salty, looking for dolphins under a backwards sky and a very hot Yuletide season. Cool eh? I'm not thinking about Saturn on my descendant (actually that is a lie).

So what writing have done today? I hear you ask breathlessly.

Well I resurrected a blog about the Titanic as Kate Winslet is saying how difficult filming was as Saturn is on her Neptune. I'm always pleased when the transits are so satisfying: astrology has never let me down. I also did a chapter on the Trudeau family--originally because Justin is so hot but then because it made such a great story on family dynamics and astrology.

I'm also maintaining the other Twitter and Facebook pages, Don't Sweat It, Planet and Growing Pains so do pop in and give me a like and a share.

And of course, I'm gearing up for India next month and Australia mid February. I'm back in London to collect my FAS diploma for the Equinox. I think I'll be teaching for the summer term so I want to be sure I have an established routine of writing and posting. I'm hoping to get to the FAS Summer School in August again and the Astrological Association's conference. Then I'm off to the US for the ISAR conference in October and hopefully SOTA in November. I'm going to be speaking at the Breaking Down the Borders on-line astrology event (also in November,) heading to Florida in January 2017 to speak at the Kepler Conference and then to Portugal for their International Astrology event February 2017.

So keep up, eh?

Seriously, all is well

If you know me at all, then you know how much I love social media (especially Facebook). Most people comment on how quick I am to respond to private messages--and how chatty I can be. So this is a quick (and maybe slightly lazy) way of letting you know all is well.

Lately I've been a little bit behind on social media. And it's because I've been DELUGED with questions about whether or not I'm actually OK. Convos go a bit like this:

friend: OK, Alex, are you OK?

me: of course, it's going really well here in cape town

friend: no REALLY

me: yes, really, I'm fine

Seriously, I'm fine. I've had my head down a bit as I frantically re-organise my various articles (both completed and in progress). Sheesh. . .I write a lot. I have enough for a little something every day which I'll be posting from my Growing Pains blog. I'm also trying to get back to the daily horoscopes on the Don't Sweat It Planet blog. As I've said, I don't particularly find them edifying but it drives traffic to my website. So I'm back to using this as my personal astrological blog (as opposed to putting everything up here) I'm also working on a couple of new books--and at long last, I think I've made my website a much happier place. Check it out at www.alextrenoweth.com

In short, yes, I REALLY am OK. I am doing stuff I've meant to do for a very long time and I'm doing a very slow switch from being a full-time teacher to a full-time astrologer. I've been recruited by a couple of magazines to write for them, my 2017 calendar is filling up nicely and I'm contentedly busy with other new projects. It takes time to complete a career switch and I'm just very grateful I've been given space to get stuff together.

Seriously, I'm good. I mean just look at this blissed out face:

 That's the face of someone who is really good.

Thanks for asking xx