Moon in Taurus

Lil' Pluto Dude

My little Pluto dude is a Gemini. He does, in fact, have crazy amounts of Gemini: Sun, Mercury and Venus. It’s a loopy little stellium all opposed and super-charged by Pluto (rising, as I may have mentioned).

Being so utterly Gemini, it’s kind of tricky keeping him on the planet. Out and about, he’s the lagger, looking up at the sky, in his own little world, tripping over the kerb and walking into shop windows. He has scars on his forehead to prove it.  At school… well… He’s only five, but already I sense the exasperation of his teachers as they describe their attempts to keep his floating head in the room. We did, in fact, devise a scheme whereby each time he reaches the end of a school-day I ask his teacher whether he managed to focus, to concentrate, or not. Each time she says yes, he gets a sticker on the starchart on the wall above his bed. Each time he has 10 stickers, he gets a reward.

So, today. He’s piled into the car with his three brothers and his surprisingly deep little voice emanates from his pixie face, big blue eyes piercing me from under his mop of straw: “I got a sticker today.” This surprises me, because I’m the one supposed to be handing out the stickers.

“Oh yes,” I reply. “What for?”

I am anticipating a prolonged stint of applied concentration, a task well done, a whole five minutes sitting still…

His little chest is puffed with pride, his face-splitting grin showing all his milk teeth.

“I finished my lunch before they’d got round the school. I was first for pudding and I finished first!”

I didn’t mention his Moon in Taurus, did I? My little tummy on legs.

Snot and Moon-Neptune

So, my two and a half-year old cherub (with Pluto rising – you see the tongue in my cheek?) has started playgroup. His intensity is legendary: he has no idea at all about personal space and no respect at all for a conversation that may have been in full flow before he decided he wanted to speak. Of course, there is an element of that in all toddlers, but, being the fourth of four boys, I am naturally aware of the “norm” and, by that token, of the intensity lent this little fella by Pluto rising in his Nativity.

My point is this: a small person starts playgroup and suddenly your household is infected with all the bugs and infections such small people breed. A playgroup is a hothouse for such things. And your nipper hasn’t been exposed to them before, so naturally he has no immunity. So naturally, he catches everything going.

And passes it on.

For me, it started with a bit of a sore throat which became more painful and then less so and now, almost gone, I feel mildly snotty. Not hideous. Not fun, but not hideous.

My lovely astrologer, on the other hand, has been floored. He is, as we speak, snuggled up on the sofa with a quilt and a wheat sack to warm his freezing feet. He is streaming snot (which offends his Virgo no end) and, frankly, finding it tough to maintain a sense of humour.

Why does he have it so much worse than me?

Well. He assures me that by tomorrow he’ll be much better. After all, in the small hours his secondary-progressed Moon opposition Neptune will have passed over.

Astrology. You gotta love it.

Astrological TMI (too much information)

My lovely astrologer has an awful lot of Virgo, you know. He likes things clean, tidy, unsullied and definitely, most definitely germ-free. My youngest son, for example, likes to suck the square, muslin comforter he calls his goggy until it’s really quite gross by anyone’s standards. Should he approach my lovely astrologer brandishing it before him, you can imagine he might end up risking life and limb through moving traffic backing away from it.

Number 3 son, on the other hand, is utterly Plutonic. The prettiest of the four boys, his mini-bloke attributes are already very much in attendance. Just now, for instance, as my lovely astrologer was nearing the kitchen, this 5 year-old son of Hades mooched past him, hands in his pockets, and muttered:

“I need a poo, Jerm.” (Ironic that he shortens Jeremy to ‘Jerm’, isn’t it?)

I collapsed into fits of giggles. We both did. As Jeremy responded “Well, thanks for telling me.” We discussed the too-much-information side of things before my lovely astrologer headed back out into the hall.

… where he encountered said Pluto-child mooching back. With barely a tilt of his head, he stated:

“I don’t think the poo’s coming out.”

Pluto in Sagittarius, and rising: Too. Much. Information. Dude.