Come January and a plethora of dietary advice hits us like an Alpine avalanche.
You know the score, you’ve overeaten for a week or more and you dread getting on the scales each morning, right?
Well, I for one don’t really believe in diets. I think you have to mindful all year round, including Christmas. Sure you can eat a bit more, but I often skip breakfast, or have something really light at that time, if I know I’ll be partaking in a feast at night. I might drink more water too.
A week or ten day’s overindulgence could take weeks to put right in terms of losing that weight you’ve rapidly put on. So I simply don’t do it. I am not perfect by any stretch, I just say no to that extra drink, I don’t get drunk and I rarely overeat – even at Christmas.
Ultimately, prevention is so much better than cure. A ‘diet’ for me is for life, not just for January.
The most wonderful time of the year, or so they say. To the world weary mind the days are cold and grey; where childhood’s a distant dream of hope and love, an imagination brought alive simply looking above. So don’t say those unfair words like humbug to me, I just yearn for spring’s return, it’s my simple plea
In the immediate hours preceding the opening of the polls on the morning of the British election at 7 am, December 12 2019, a full Moon occurs in Gemini.
I find this extraordinary, considering all that the country has been through already over the past three and a half years. What might this mean, other than the fact that it seems to symbolise the huge dichotomy, the split within the nation(s) and the people of the United Kingdom?
The time of the full Moon is a time of tension, opposition between contrary forces: the sun versus the Moon, masculine and feminine, yin and yang, the government (sun) and the people (Moon). There is a huge public distrust of political institutions in general at the moment.
Change in the air
The time of the full Moon is a time of culmination, of change, especially I feel along a mutable (changeful) axis like Sagittarius and Gemini, which are all about knowledge, dissemination and communication. Something has to give.
Equally intriguing is that this sun/Moon opposition occurs along the 1st/7th house axis, which in mundane astrology is to do with the nation as a whole (1st) and agreements, diplomacy and treaties with other nations (7th). Nothing better could encapsulate (at this point in time on election morning) the ongoing impasse, stand off even, there has been between the interests of the nation and the dispute over the nature of the deal or treaty with which the UK finally leaves the EU – if it does at all.
The time of the full Moon each month can also be a strange time; animals’ and people’s behaviour can be more unpredictable and unusual, which is a well known fact. The result itself might be difficult to predict.
All of this considered, holding an election at the time of the full Moon is perhaps not ideal, although one thing is clear I think – it will be tense, there will be some kind of surprise, a shock even.
The surprise might be that the opposition parties do much better than expected. At the moment the government has a significant lead in the polls but a lot can change over a long campaign.
A shock result?
Conversely, the ‘shock’ might be that the Conservative government has a landslide, perhaps with the aid of the Brexit party in some kind of electoral pact.
Perhaps the least likely result, because the full Moon in Gemini indicates change, would be another hung parliament, which would essentially mean no change from where we are now, except that Labour, Liberal Democrats and even the Scottish Nationalists could form some kind of coalition government if the Conservatives were not the biggest party. This could, effectively, cancel Brexit entirely.
Could the weather intervene?
It could even be the weather. The full Moon often occurs at the time of a break in the weather. This is the first December election for nearly a century, so what happens if there is significant snowfall, for example? The polls in the cities and towns may well cope, but what about the country areas? Will people be able to vote? Will they want to go out and vote? Will the vote have to be cancelled?
Either way this is going to be very interesting, tense and fraught, especially as the nature of ‘Brexit’ is at stake – even whether there is to be Brexit at all.
I will look more fully into the astrology of polling day 2019 in other posts.
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019
If you would like your own astrological report creating please contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org
I stood alone
like it was the end of our world, an
eerie glowing sky reflecting my heart, with
the solstice on its way. You
turned to look at me, that smile
I knew so well, your gracious nod
I’d never seen in real life. My hand
went through you – you were not
there anymore, just an echo like the
sonorous bells over pantiles, made
uniform by the morning rime. You said
I looked ‘frit!’ in the dialect
brought across to your city,
the voice of your
distinction. ‘Your life is not
your own,’ you said, ‘even the sun
never stands still, only seems to.’
So you told me not to worry, not
even care, to let it all go
now, that it’s better to die trying
than do nothing,
a short life
with meaning and all its
tortuous crosses borne, can become
a pilot light of inspiration. You
walked towards the sea, smiling
once more and unafraid, before vanishing
out of time into the
low glinting sun, a promise
of far off warmth
and the revelation to come
With the wedding of his Detective Sergeant imminent, Detective Inspector Mike Malone finds that his life is very complicated. Firstly, he has to explain to his partner, Dr Fiona Davies, exactly what happened on Alan Shepherd’s stag-do and secondly, he has a series of brutal murders to solve. As the case develops, Mike Malone finds that, in this instance, a policeman’s lot is not a happy one.
This is the sixth novel in the popular Mike Malone series and once again you will find a mixture of tongue-in-cheek humour and blood as you travel with Mike Malone through his little Lincolnshire town.
Through the dark woods
he became a bright torch
to illuminate overgrown paths
where leaves of oak and ash
caressed my face like friends
On the high moorland
he was the warm fleece
which I wrapped around myself
to shelter from the cold and rain
And when we sat down
in the clearing by a stream
he produced this feast of food
which I shared with a host of birds
and others sitting tamely at my feet
But when he stood up to go
his skin turned a deathly white
I watched helpless
while he vanished silently
into a bank of willow and alder
swallowed by the rush
of the now turbulent stream
The animals all scampered away
to peer at me from somewhere
unseen in the shadows
I began to trudge home
shivering on the high moorland
drenched to the skin
with only hardy sheep for company
who eyed me warily
when I staggered by
Once back in the dark woods
I soon became lost
the stinging branches whipping me
and thorns piercing my flesh
while groping my way through
In my bag I found the old torch
with its flickering light
I hit it against a tree
trying to make it work –
my only recourse
in such a state of loss