A Bureaucratic System

 

Hurricanes. I’ve lived with them since my parents first moved to South Florida in 1963. But in all those years, I’ve never lived in a house or apartment or or anywhere that was damaged enough in a hurricane that I had to file an insurance claim. Irma was a different beast.

At one point during her trek through the Caribbean, her winds reached 185 MPH and were sustained for 36 hours at that speed. If she hadn’t lingered along the northern coast of Cuba as long as she had, she would have ripped up Florida’s east coast and torn it to shreds. By the time we experienced Irma on September 10-11, it was a Cat 3, I think, and had endless rain. Because of the angle at which it came at us, we were able to stand on our back porch for a time and witness its fury.

We lost power briefly – less than 24 hours. That was a huge improvement from Wilma in 2005, which knocked out our power for 10 days, and left some places around here without power for up to 3 weeks. But Governor Scott was and is hoping to win a senate seat in November 2018 and pulled out the stops to prepare for recovery in Irma’s wake. He did great on that; on just about everything else, Scott has failed and actually belongs in prison for Medicare fraud from his earlier years. But that story is for another post.

In October, we had a huge thunderstorm and noticed leaks all over our house. We filed a claim with our insurance company – the first ever for a hurricane, the 2nd in 18 years. Our first claim was for a stolen bike. They sent out their guy.  He did his inspection. We received a check a few weeks later for several thousand, which didn’t even cover the cost of the new AC unit we had to buy because Irma destroyed the one we had.

A friend who works for an attorney (he lost his hom in Key West) told me about public insurance adjusters – independent contractors who work for you, for no $ up front. They take 10% of the new money. We started calling around and finally found  James, my new hero. His inspection of our house took several hours and his estimate was well beyond that of the guy from the insurance company. He worked tirelessly, pursuing every legal angle he could. And finally, about 7 months after filing the claim, after missing several deadlines, the insurance company paid.

That’s Rob on our roof, surveying the work that’s been done so far.

There’s a bureaucratic system to all this and you either learn it quickly or you get screwed. First rule: start at the top with your roof. You, the home owner, take bids for the various types of repairs. We quickly discovered that roofers in this area are so inundated with work that most don’t even return your calls. Our neighbor Annette, told us about Picture Perfect, a roofing outfit that had done three roofs in our neighborhood. Brad, the owner, became my new hero alongside James, the public adjuster.

The bank that holds your mortgage doles out the money like an allowance, once you’ve uploaded all the forms they required. This process is tedious but apparently necessary because in the past people have walked away with their insurance settlements and fled to Tahiti and the bank had to foreclose on the homes. But, hey, whatever. By now, on August 15, we have a new roof! And the interior repairs begin today.

We’ve met some great and really competent people and I’ve learned more about roofs than I probably need to know. We used to have tile, now we’re going to shingles, less expensive and easier to maintain. A lot of homes are opting for metal roofs, like you see in the keys. But they’re more expensive and noisy when it rains! The bottom line is simple: without a good roof, your home is compromised even before the disaster, whatever it is, arrives.

The ten percent earned by the public insurance adjuster, the guy who set the whole thing in motion, who stimulated the economy through roofers and dry board and paint people, plumbers, and all the rest of it, is the last check issued. This strikes me as grossly unfair, and is something our governor, Rick Scott who wants so badly to be a senator, instituted into law.

Why?

I can’t pretend to understand how someone like Scott thinks. But I know what it looks like: penalize anyone who helps the individual. I think these public insurance adjusters need to unionize and demand initial payment up front. After all, without them, without our guy James, Rob would be standing on our old, compromised roof.

Thank you, James. Thank you, Brad. Thank you to all you guys from here on in. And thanks, universe, for no hurricanes yet this season!

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Mike Perry & Secrets of Spirit Communication

We recently sent our blogging friend, Mike Perry of the U.K., the e-galley of our book Secrets of Spirit Communication. Mike is mentioned in the book and over the years has contributed a great deal to our knowledge  on all facets of synchronicity. His blog on synchronicity is fascinating and filled with experiences.  As you’ll see from his email, reading the book seemed to have triggered some synchros for Mike.

The reference in his email to the white feather as evidence of spirit contact is something I first read about on Mike’s blog.

Hello Trish,

A quick email. I have been reading your book, up to page 66.

Recently I haven’t had any synchros and/or experiences for quite a while. I think your book and words have got me back on track!

We put out food for birds frequently and over the last few days we have had two pretty jays visiting us – always together.

While reading your book it came to me that two Jays is our daughter who died – her name was Janice Juliet! For a minute this quite stunned me.

About 20 minutes later, another almost silly synchro. Simon, from five doors along the road, came to say thank you for us looking after his cat and fish while the family had been away.

For some reason he told me that before coming out he fancied some ice cream with a banana.

The odd bit is that about 10 minutes earlier I had said to Karin that I fancied some ice cream! She went in the kitchen and came back with ice cream and banana. I haven’t had ice cream in an evening for years!

And then this morning, we walked to our local shops and, of course, there was a big fluffy white feather!

So all in all I think your book has got me back on track – so thanks!

Must rush but felt I wanted to tell you this.

We’d love to hear from any of you who have experienced something similar with the book.

 

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Solar Eclipse in Leo – and a question about trump’s birth time

Remember when trump questioned Obama’s nationality? Well, in a weird twist, there are apparently some discrepancies about trump’s birth time that may come to light with the August 11 solar eclipse in Leo. But first, a bit about this eclipse.

On August 11, we have our third solar eclipse this year, at 18 degrees and 41 minutes of Leo. So if you’re a Leo, born between August 6-15, or have a Leo moon or rising at 14 to 22 degrees Leo, you’ll feel this eclipse most strongly.

Solar eclipses trigger outer events and often usher in new opportunities and relationships. This one features not only the sun and moon in Leo, but also Mercury and the North Node. So you Leos – and other fire signs – may have new opportunities in communication, travel, and learning (Mercury) and any of these areas represent a positive direction for you. Pluto, the planet that represents power/authority forms an angle to the eclipse degree that suggests you may have to adjust your attitude toward a boss or other authority figure to avoid confrontation.

These eclipses often trigger unexpected events – personally or globally. What, for instance, might this eclipse bring about for trump, who has a Leo rising?

There seems to be some discrepancy about his time of birth. Here’s a fascinating article about it. The Astro-Data Bank source considered to be the final word for birth times lists trump’s time of birth as 10:54 a.m, which gives him a 29 degree Leo rising. But in a 1994 book by Lynne Palmer, Gambling to Win, trump is one of her examples and she uses a 9:51 a.m birth time, and the source of that time was trump’s mother. The reason this makes a difference  is because the 9:51 a.m. time gives trump a rising of 17 degrees 24 minutes, which means this eclipse falls on his rising.

Given the multiple investigations that are going on into the trump empire’s  questionable financial dealings, possible collusion with Russia, payoffs to women with whom he has had affairs,  this eclipse could hurl him into more chaos than usual. Stay tuned, folks. Things could be getting very interesting as the stakes escalate.

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The Cat & the Frog

No synchros here! Unless you’re a cat visualizing for some excitement.

Here’s Piper the cat before she saw something moving on the outside of my office window. Chill, mellow: “Ho-hum, another night of watching the human write.”

Here’s Piper when she saw…

THE FROG!

 

 

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Renie, Adam Walsh, and Christie Luna

 

On August 8,  our book, Secrets of Spirit Communication, is released. Here’s one of our personal favorite stories from the book, one in which we were involved with an old friend, Renie Wiley, who passed some years ago. The major players in this story are Adam Walsh and Christie Luna and the contact spans nearly 25 years.

Renie was a South Florida artist and psychic who often volunteered her services with the Cooper City police. She was a tall, large-boned woman, a redhead with a kick your ass attitude who dominated any room she entered, any gathering she joined. She was opinionated, funny, stubborn, smart and sassy. She was an ace astrologer who mentored Trish and a psychic with such raw talent that one Cooper City cop began to use her in his investigations.

In the summer of 1981, Renie and the cop were driving near a mall in Hollywood, Florida, where five-year-old Adam Walsh was last seen in Sears on July 27, 1981, shopping with his mother. The cop hoped that Renie might be able to pick up something psychically about the missing boy—where he was, what had happened to him, if he’d been abducted.

At that point, the police believed he’d been abducted, but didn’t have any leads. Renie didn’t have an object that had belonged to Adam, but posters of the boy wearing his baseball uniform and cap were found everywhere around South Florida and they wrenched at your heart. His huge, innocent eyes whispered, I am your son, your brother, your cousin, your neighbor. His face had been burned into the collective consciousness and that seemed to be all that Renie needed.

When she and the cop were within a few miles of the mall, Renie’s hands suddenly flew to her throat. She started choking, gasping for air. The cop had worked with her often enough to realize she was picking up something related to Adam and quickly sped away. Several miles later, he swerved to the side of the road.

“What is it, Renie?”

She sobbed. “Adam was decapitated.”

It was as if Adam’s spirit had reached out to Renie her empathic ability, so that she physically felt what he had felt as he was dying.

Not long afterward, the head of the six-year-old boy was discovered in a canal in Vero Beach, Florida, more than a hundred miles north of the Hollywood mall. Ottis Toole, a serial killer, was serving five life sentences for murder when he confessed to killing Adam Walsh. He died of liver cancer in 1996 at the age of 49. However, it wasn’t until 2008 when police announced that they had verified Toole’s confession that he had killed John Walsh’s son.

We observed Renie in action several years later, on a dismal, rainy night in late 1984. We drove with her to the police department in Greenacres, Florida to see what she could pick up on a missing girl. Eight-year-old Christie Luna had vanished near her home in Greenacres on May 24, 1984. Around three p.m., she had walked to a store to buy cat food and never returned. Police suspected foul play.

Renie had requested toys that Christie played with, her way of connecting with the girl’s spirit. She sat on the floor of the police station clutching an old teddy bear, running her hands over it. Her eyes were shut as she rocked back and forth, humming softly. Everything about Renie at that moment suggested a small, childlike person. She started to whimper, then cry, then sob, her body hunched over the teddy bear.

“The mother’s boyfriend used to beat up on her,” Renie murmured. “She’s deaf in one ear because of it.” The deafness was later confirmed by Christie’s mother.

We left the station with the officer and drove around Greenacres, through the wet darkness. Christie’s teddy bear was on Renie’s lap as we passed the house where the girl had lived and the store where she was headed when she vanished. Renie directed us through streets until we came to a wooded area surrounded by a high wire-mesh fence. Renie disliked what she was feeling and turned to the officer. “You should search in there.”

Renie felt the girl had been killed by the mother’s boyfriend, but Christie Luna’s body was never found and the case remained open.

Renie passed away in the mid 1990s. But in 2008, twenty-four years after she had clutched Christie Luna’s teddy bear, both she and the case entered our lives again, through a strange and startling synchronicity and spirit contact.

Dennie Gooding, a psychic in Los Angeles, called to say she was going to be in South Florida, and hoped we could get together. Nancy McMoneagle, who today is director of the Monroe Institute, also called and said she was going to be in South Florida the same weekend. As it turned out, they had both been invited by the wife of a detective, who was investigating a cold case. They would be staying with her in Greenacres, which is less than ten miles from our home in Wellington. Their visit synchronistically coincided with that of author and past life researcher Carol Bowman, and screenwriter Julie Scully. So we decided to throw a party on the weekend when everyone would be in town.

The morning of the party, we found an uncashed check for $50 from Renie, dated 1987, the repayment of a loan. We wondered where the check had been all these years. After all, we had moved twice since the check had been written and why had it suddenly turned up now? We didn’t think anymore about it until later that evening, when the party was in full swing, and we were catching up on things with Dennie.

“So what kind of case are you working on with this detective?” Trish asked.

She then proceeded to describe the unsolved mystery of a girl from Greenacres who’d gone missing in 1984 and was presumed dead. “But her body has never been found.”

Goosebumps crawled up Trish’s arms. “The Christie Luna case?”

Dennie looked shocked. “How’d you know that?”

Trish told her about Renie and that night twenty-four years earlier, then went over to a drawer and brought out the check from Renie.

“Synchronicity!” Dennie exclaimed.

Dennie wasn’t able to locate Christie’s body. But interestingly, when she and the cop in charge of the cold case were driving around, she pinpointed the same area that Renie had—several acres of yet undeveloped, government-owned land, bordered by a metal fence. “I feel she’s buried in there.”

The synchronicities and instances of spirit contact in this confluence of events are startling. Something that began in 1984 came full circle on that night in 2008, twenty-four years later. Not only did Dennie pinpoint the same area that Renie had, but on the day we learned of Dennie’s involvement in the case, we found the check Renie had written us decades ago. It was as if the spirits of both Renie and Christie Luna were urging us to pay attention, to acknowledge this contact between the living and the dead. C’mon, they seemed to be whispering. You can solve this thing.

Now and then, something appears in our local newspaper about the Christie Luna case. But as of today 2018, the case is still open.

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Manafort and That Ostrich Feather Jacket

The Paul Manafort trial that’s now underway has presented us with some intriguing synchronicities. The kind of synchro I’m about to describe happens fairly frequently in global events, but this is one of the strangest we’ve run across. It involves a $15,000 bomber jacket made of ostrich feathers.

CNN correspondent Kara Scannell tweeted an image of the jacket, which was purchased from Alan Couture in New York City, deemed the most expensive store in the world. It’s  part of the exhibit that illustrates how Manafort, Trumps former campaign (volunteer!) manager funneled funds from Ukraine and laundered money to support his lavish, tax-free lifestyle.

Until now, I’ve never heard of an ostrich jacket. Then again, I live in Florida where the weather eliminates bomber jackets of any kind. But one twitter user, Matthew Dowd, nailed the synchro in this purchase:

I think I figured out why manafort owned an ostrich jacket. It is is something you need in order to work for trump – it allows you to stick your head in the sand.

But first, a bit about how this jacket was made. From HuffPost: In 2016, PETA published a video exposing the slaughter methods used to obtain ostrich skin for luxury fashion use. On Wednesday, the organization also responded to the news of Manafort’s jacket, saying in a statement on Twitter that it “was likely made from numerous juvenile ostriches whose throats were slit and whose feathers were plucked out.”

Nice.

In Egyptian mythology, ostrich feathers were significant in matters of life and death. The Egyptian goddess Ma’at supposedly helped decide if the souls of dead Egyptians were worthy of going to heaven when they died or if their souls should be destroyed. She weighed a person’s heart against the ostrich feather. If the heart weighed more than the feather, then the person’s soul would be destroyed. If the heart weighed the same or less than the feather, then the person’s soul would get to move onto the next world. As a result, the Egyptians believed the ostrich was a symbol for truth and purity.

Ostriches can’t fly and are often thought of as sticking their heads in the sand to avoid danger. But what they actually do is flop down on the ground and play dead. In the investment world, an ostrich is an investor who ignores negative news, hoping that it will just go away.

This description certainly seems to fit Paul Manafort, 69, who is facing a 32-count indictment. If convicted, he could be facing decades in prison. For timing, we look to the ostrich life cycle – their eggs take about 40 days to hatch and an ostrich can live up to 40 years in captivity. So we should know about the Manafort verdict within 40 days.

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A Miracle Reunion

A mother and daughter were separated eight decades ago, and both were told that the other was dead. So what would prompt family members of 79-year-old Joanne Loewenstern to search for her birth mother?

Even if they didn’t believe the story that Joanne was told at age 16, that her birth mother died soon after she was born, what were the chances that she would still be alive in 2018 and that it would be possible to find her?

In spite of such overwhelming odds, something pushed family members to search for Joanne’s lost mother and they found 100-year-old Lillian C living less than 100 miles from Joanne along the Florida’s east coast. Caretakers of Lillian Ciminieri, 100, believe she spent her life thinking her daughter had died at birth, according to a video of the reunion.

Ciminieri once went by “Lillian Feinsilver,” the name Loewenstern was given as her birth mother’s name, according to the Washington Post. Detective work of family members resulted in the reunion of mother and daughter after a DNA match was made on Ancestry.com. The website offers DNA services designed to help users discover their family history.

It was a miracle in our view,” Elliot Loewenstern, Joanne’s son, told USA TODAY in a written message. “Unbelievable.” The reunion took place June 24 in Port St. Lucie, Florida, about 1,000 miles away from New York City where they were separated 79 years ago.

The mystery of her birth mother haunted Loewenstern throughout her life. “Many nights I sat and cried,” Loewenstern told West Palm Beach station WPTV.

She didn’t fully believe that her mother had died at a Bronx hospital in 1938, as she was told. “I had a feeling she was alive somehow,” The Washington Post quotes Loewenstern as saying. “I just felt that I didn’t believe it for some reason.”

Details of how and why the separation occurred are still unknown. “We don’t know what happened officially because this is all new to us and we aren’t alive at that time,” Elliot Loewenstern said.

The reunion brought relief and closure to Loewenstern and her family. “This is incredible and my mother can finally put to bed her question of who am I? God truly works in mysterious ways and today was massive,” Elliot Loewenstern wrote on Facebook after the reunion.

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Living Vicariously

The lake at Yellowstone

Our daughter, Megan, is traveling through Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and Yellowstone with two friends. She took this trip because back in January, during a Mercury retrograde, she was bumped from a flight on Frontier and was given a generous voucher that she had to use by a certain date. On this trip, she returned to Denver, where she’d been bumped during the last retro, and landed there again at the very beginning of the current Merc retro. That happens frequently.

The abundant beauty and vastness of the places she’s visiting are embodied in these photos. I’m envious! I’ve never been to any of these states! Thanks to technology – the same technology that enabled me to watch NASA’s live stream  of the lunar eclipse in Australia and South Africa – I’m able to travel with her vicariously.

Elk in the front yard!

Old Faithful

Vastness

See those mountains? To a native Floridian like Megan, these peaks are wondrous!

Note to self: next trip? Go west.

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The Alternative Universe Called Instagram

I came across this headline one day this summer, about Instgram “star” Jen Selter being removed from an American Airlines flight.  and thought, Huh? What’s an Instagram star?

As someone old enough to remember when cell phones didn’t exist, computers were in their infancy,  and network TV went off the air at 1 a.m., this headline struck me as REALLY odd. I can understand being an Instagram star if you’ve excelled at something –  you’re an incredible artist or an inventor who has brought us zero point energy. Or  you’ve built a community on Mars, ended poverty and hunger, or have written a mind-blowing book.

But I don’t understand why an apparent narcissist who calls herself a fitness guru is considered an Instagram star for flaunting her big butt in various yoga poses. It seems to be the number of followers that makes the star – almost 12 million for her.

Instagram is a weird world. Mostly images. The idea is to get as many followers as possible  and thousands of likes on any single image you post. There are groups, of course – dogs, cats, aliens, writers, artists, actors, musicians, entrepreneurs, life coaches, psychics, and any other category you can imagine.

If you can’t amass followers quickly enough, you can buy them. I’ve gotten several solicitations for follower buys in the year or so I’ve been posting. But that’s nothing new. You can also buy Twitter followers, You Tube followers,  and reviews for your book on Amazon. There’s no end in social media for buying followers. What’s kind of sad about this is that money still talks, profit remains the bottom line.

However you gather your Instagram  followers, you may have 11,000 followers one day and 10,500 the next because people have UNfollowed you.   Why? This aspect of Instagram reduces it to the level of a high school popularity contest.

I’m convinced there are people who live on Instagram, who eat their three meals a day while scrolling through likes and comments on their own posts and on other people’s posts. They track the numbers of their followers closely and openly state, “If you follow me, I’ll follow you. If you unfollow me, I’ll unfollow you.”

Then there are Instagram people who pretend to be celebrities just to get followers, which has prompted some of the real celebrities to add “official” before their names. The other day, I ran across an Instagram account called fox mulder ties. Yeah, you read that correctly. And the only photos on his site are ties, men wearing ties that Fox Mulder from X-Files may or may not have worn.

I love Stephen King’s Instagram. He has a million followers and follows just one Instagram account – for IT, the movie. I used to be able to find JK Rowling’s Instagram page, but no more. Look at all the wannabe Rowlings…some of them even claim to be “official”.

I enjoy Instagram accounts that aren’t pretentious – Whitley Strieber’s is great, Grimerica Podcast is quirky and fun, we love aliens has wonderful photos and depictions of UFOs and aliens and who knows if any of them are real. I enjoy accounts that tell stories about the lives of the people who post – their creative talents, the animals and people they love,  the places they travel, the books they read.

Instagram is an alternative universe  that reminds me how diverse , strange, and mysterious physical life is. It’s also social media’s ultimate popularity contest, even when you haven’t done much of anything to warrant the attention. Go figure.

 

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A Visual and Political Synchro

See that guy in the aqua-colored polo shirt with the cell phone on his ear and cap on his head? That’s Donald Trump Jr., son of POTUS Don. He’s standing in line at Gate 35X at Reagan National Airport in Arlington, Virginia. Seated at left about 15 feet away from Don Jr. is Robert Mueller, head of the special counsel investigating Russian interference in the 2016 election. Don Jr. is one of the Americans being investigated by Mueller for possible collusion with the Russians.

The picture was taken Friday, July 27, exactly two years to the day from when then-presidential candidate Donald Trump said in a rally: “Russia, if you are listening, find Hillary Clinton’s missing 33,000 e-mails. You’ll be greatly rewarded by the press.” The next day, Russians hacked into the Democratic National Committee’s computer.

The day this photo was taken Donald Jr. was in the news again related to the meeting in Trump Tower with several Russians linked to the Russian government. Don Jr. had arranged the meeting, and now Trump Sr.’s former ‘fixer’ Michael Cohen reportedly said that Trump knew about the meeting in advance of it, something he has previously denied.

Interestingly, Gate 35X is one that requires passengers to take a bus from the terminal to the gate. So it’s possible that Mueller and Don Jr. were riding on the same bus to the gate.

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A Dental Synchro

I usually don’t think about synchronicity when I’m at the dentist. I just want to get through whatever procedure is underway and get out of there. But today one hit me in the face or maybe I should say jaw, since that’s where my teeth are.

I was in the chair getting a filling, a simple procedure. I had gotten a root canal in the same tooth, a do-over because of an infection had caused a fistula on my gum. But my crown was still good. I just needed a second root canal on that tooth—pricey but necessary—and the filling. It only took about 10 minutes, but while I sat there, my phone was blowing up in my pocket, fortunately on vibrate. I figured it was text messages from a group of anti-trumpsters.

After the procedure was over I went to the front desk, expecting to pay $5, my usual co-pay. But I was told it cost $70. “Seventy?” I said. “You mean my insurance doesn’t cover it?” The response was that the insurance did cover most of it, that it would’ve cost $375 if I didn’t have insurance. “Fillings cost that much now?” I exclaimed. And was told that this one required something extra, can’t remember what she called it. Whatever, the whole thing, as I said, took ten minutes. No novacaine required, because the nerves had been removed with the first root canal.

Grumbling a bit to myself as I left, I took out my phone to see what the text messages were about and the first thing I read was: “70?!!” I just double-checked to make sure I had that exactly right, and that was it. Of course, the person was not complaining about the cost of my filling. She knew nothing about it. Instead, she was responding to a Reuters/Ipsos poll that someone else had texted that found 70 percent of Republicans approve of Trump’s handling of Russia at the Helsinki summit. In other words, the base remains fully in support of Trump. Astonishingly, the poll also found that only 32% of Republicans believe that the Russians hacked the 2016 election.

So my dental bill tuned into the GOP base’s support of their leader in action at Helsinki. We could call them the Helsinki Republicans, and the event…Helsinki-Stinky…or Stink in Helsink.”

 

PS From Trish – As far as I know, this is the first tooth synchro we’ve ever experienced.  Anyone else have synchros that involve weird things?!

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Mercury Retro & a Lunar Eclipse

 

On July 26, at 1:02 a.m. EDT, the second Mercury retrograde of the year begins at 32 degrees Leo and ends on August 19 at 12:25 a.m. EDT at 11 degrees Leo. If you live in the Pacific time zone, the retro begins at 10:02 PM on July 25.

On July 27, at 4:20 p.m., there’s a lunar eclipse at 4 degrees 45 minutes Aquarius.

Let’s take a look at these events separately. Mercury retrograde occurs 3 times a year when the planet of communication and travel appears to be moving backward relative to earth. Rather than starting new ventures, it’s a great time to revise, review, reconsider. During this retrograde period, life is easier if you adhere to a list of DO NOTs.

Don’t sign contracts unless you don’t mind revisiting the terms at a later date. We did this for one of our Omar astrology contracts and things were messed up right from the start.

If you make travel plans during a Merc retro, you may experience unexpected changes in your itinerary – your flight is delayed or canceled, your baggage is lost, you miss your connection, irritating stuff. But on the plus side, a place you travel to during a retrograde is a spot to which you may  return at some point.

Don’t buy a car, printer or a computer during a Merc retro. You may regret it. I’ve done all 3 and had to return the computer and the printer and the car gave us trouble and we sold it less than a year later.

Miscommunication is rampant during these retrograde periods, so be sure to communicate clearly. Double check appointments and deadlines. Take nothing for granted.

You may hear from people who haven’t been a part of your life for years and that can be good or not, depending on who the person is!

The Lunar Eclipse

Lunar eclipses tend to trigger emotional responses. Uranus, the planet of unexpected events – surprises!- forms a hard angle to the eclipse degree. Notice that the moon is in the 2nd house of the eclipse chart, the house that rules finances, earned income, your personal values. The moon shares this house with Pluto, Mars, and the South Node – the horseshoe symbol.

Typically, when an eclipse degree is conjunct the South Node, as this one is, the eclipse can be challenging. An authority figure may do or say something that presses your buttons. It would be best to avoid any confrontation. With Mars – our physicality, capacity for aggression – tempers may be heightened. Toss in the Merc retro and the potential for miscommunication is heightened.

Saturn in Capricorn in the 1st house and Uranus in Taurus in the 5th are in a great aspect to each other – a trine, 120 degrees. This suggests an easy flow of energy. Any  unforeseen events, sudden insights, and aha! moments you experience can be put to use in a practical way.

One thing that may transpire on or around this eclipse is more revelations about the Mueller investigation and trump. For the prez, this eclipse occurs in his 6th house of health and daily work. We can expect more tweet storms about witch hunts and fake news, and given his allegedly awful diet and the emotional chaos with which trump lives, there may be repercussions for his health.

Best advice for this eclipse: lay low, don’t engage in arguments. If you’re dissatisfied with some aspect of your life, this eclipse may bring that feeling to the front of your awareness. Then it’s up to you to do something about it.

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Karma?

Remember the trump rallies where his supporters shouted, LOCK HER UP?

Well, here’s the other side. Karma.

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