MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN – JUNE 28: Patrick Wisdom #16 of the Chicago Cubs hits a two-run home run in the seventh inning against the Milwaukee Brewers at American Family Field on June 28, 2021 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. (Photo by Patrick McDermott/Getty Images)
The Chicago Cubs had some people thinking that they are actually a contender for a while there. They still may turn it around but right now they look like the mediocre team that we thought they were. They are 3-7 in their last ten games and losers of four straight which is not good. However, despite all of that, there is one player who can be proud of the way his season has gone so far. Patrick Wisdom has been one of the best Chicago Cubs stories so far.
The Chicago Cubs really need Patrick Wisdom to continue his streak of hot play.
On Thursday, the Chicago Cubs let an early 2-0 lead slip away. The Milwaukee Brewers then scored four straight to lead the game 4-2 late. In the top of the 7th inning, however, Patrick Wisdom tied the game on a two-run home run. It was a great way to give the Cubs a chance to win.
Unfortunately, the Cubs allowed Milwaukee to score 10 runs in the bottom of the 8th to win the game easily. It looks like a blowout but Wisdom’s home run gave the Cubs a chance late. It is unfortunate that the Cubs allowed the Brewers to score that much and waste another big moment from Patrick Wisdom.
Wisdom’s home run came in a pinch-hit situation as well which makes it even more impressive. He is a great player to have as an option for David Ross as either a starter or bench player. He may eventually cool way down but they should use him as much as they can. He has already technically cooled down since his red hot stretch but he does have a .277 average with a 1.039 OPS. He only has 16 RBIs and 11 of them are himself from his 11 home runs.
Chicago’s offense has been up and down so far this season. Guys like Anthony Rizzo, Kris Bryant, Javier Baez, and Willson Contreras are always going to be mostly great but the rest of the lineup leaves a lot to be desired. Wisdom has been a pleasant surprise in terms of the long ball which has helped the Cubs’ offense be a little bit better.
If the Cubs want to make a playoff run this year, Wisdom’s contributions probably need to be plentiful for the rest of the season. They don’t have a lot in the tank there so they could use as much help as possible. It would have been nice to see Wisdom’s efforts rewarded on Monday night but the pitching couldn’t get the job done.
ChicagoBears (Photo by Focus on Sport/Getty Images)
Over the course of the Chicago Bears‘ rich history, there have been many notable moves made. Whether or not they have panned out is the real topic of discussion.
Every team in the NFL has made both great trades and poor ones. Just recently, we’ve seen deals like the Houston Texans trading away All Pro wide receiver DeAndre Hopkins for next to nothing. If you’re the Arizona Cardinals, that goes down as a historically excellent trade.
If you’re Houston, on the other hand, the opposite can be said.
Even in recent history, we have seen the Bears make big and bold moves like that. A few years ago, general manager Ryan Pace shocked us all when he was able to land Khalil Mack in a blockbuster deal. Mack came in and completely leveled up the entire defense. It was worth it.
Not every significant trade has been a positive one for the Chicago Bears, though.
If you look back a little over a decade, the Bears made a huge move to acquire quarterback Jay Cutler. Now, depending on who you ask, the jury could still be out on this move.
On one hand, Cutler became the Bears’ all-time leading passer. On the other, he caused a whole lot of stress for fans game-in and game-out. The Cutler trade was by no means a bad deal. For some, it was the highlight of a rather dark time for the Bears. It provided hope.
The same cannot be said for a number of deals made by the Bears over their long history. There are five trades, specifically, that stand out as being worse than all of the others.
Does a comic strip belong on a museum wall? I ask this not to question the value of cartooning, but because I wonder whether a wall is the best place to experience what comics are designed to do. This ate at me as I wandered through “Chicago Comics: 1960s to Now,” the generous survey of 60 years of Chicago’s cartoonists currently on view at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago. There’s absolutely no question that much of the work on display deserves to be known and celebrated. But are the walls of a museum the right venue?
A comic strip is read as much as it’s seen. The artist/writer spends years honing their style and vision, experimenting with format and presentation, but most of the time, the ultimate destination for cartoons and comic strips is the printed page rather than a wall. Context is paramount to the audience’s experience in art, so when comics are taken out of a newspaper or book, something is inevitably lost.
There’s certainly no faulting Dan Nadel, the curator of the exhibition, for the sweep and breadth of this survey. The show traces the art form’s evolution from newspaper mainstay to alt-weekly counterculture outrageousness to hermetically personal expression. Any visitor with even the most casual interest in comics should be able to find something to fall in love with here–but something still didn’t quite connect for me, no matter the quality or subject matter in the vitrines or on the walls.
Nadel was obviously aware of the challenge of displaying art created to be held in one’s lap, up close, and experienced privately. The exhibition addresses this problem with supplementary materials. In the room devoted to Ivan Brunetti, there is a shelf of his personal collection of toys and figurines. Other rooms have maquettes and other work product meant to give context to the artists’ processes. Additionally, many walls are taken up by vinyl blowups of single panels or details of drawings. These oversize copies do little to illuminate each artist’s unique vision and contribute to a chaotically busy visual presentation. The exhibition experience at times felt like being at an estate sale: having to consciously ignore a lot of noise in favor of the isolated objects of personal interest.
There’s such a polyphony of approaches and styles that it felt like artists were yelling over each other. Other times, there was a disconnect between my longtime experience of particular work and how it was presented in these rooms. Lynda Barry’s exuberant panels felt strangely muted, while Chris Ware’s obsessively ordered work suffered from a busy salon-style grab bag installation.
The highlights of the exhibition were younger artists whose work is not dependent on either narrative sequencing, nor the printed page. Edie Fake’s abstract architectural prints left a mysterious magnetic charge and Lilli Carre‘s video loop of ever-mutating female figures from art history, seemingly made of rubbery bubblegum, made me smile. I sat through the sequence four or five times and could easily have stayed longer. If I had to choose a favorite, it would be Jessica Campbell’s wall of weird acrylic carpet creatures. Their bright industrial colors and artificial turf texture were like a 21st-century update of Henri Matisse’s Jazz series. Unlike so much of the work presented here, which suffered by being ripped from its natural habitat, these funny figures absolutely owned their environment. I could stand anywhere in the gallery and they commanded attention in a way the small ink-and painted-pieces-on-paper of the others couldn’t.
This show is a love letter to comics and our city’s role in comics history. I’d never skip a chance to examine original art by longtime favorites and the inclusion of Black artists’ work going back to the 1940s is illuminating and necessary. For anyone interested in the nuts and bolts of the medium, there are countless examples of in-progress or partially completed drawings that will be especially valuable to young people looking to get into art themselves. In the absence of a more suitable venue than an art museum, I’d urge anyone interested in comics and in this city’s history and culture to visit. But afterwards, pick up Barry’s The Greatest of Marlys, Ware’s Jimmy Corrigan, and the exhibition’s accompanying reprint of It’s Life as I See It: Black Cartoonists in Chicago, 1940-1980 to experience the genuine article. v
CHICAGO, IL – AUGUST 18: Exceutive Vice President and General Manager Jed Hoyer of the Chicago Cubs talks to media members before a game against the Detroit Tigers at Wrigley Field on August 18, 2015 in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo by Jonathan Daniel/Getty Images)
The Chicago Cubs have been a good team for a few years now. They rebuilt themselves well after Theo Epstein took over in 2012 and it led to a World Series championship. However, since winning that title, they have made some seriously bad decisions. One of them came during this past offseason when they decided to let Kyle Schwarber walk in free agency. He ended up with the Washington Nationals and he has been amazing.
Letting Kyle Schwarber go is proving to be a disaster of a decision by the Chicago Cubs.
Kyle Schwarber has been the hottest player in Major League Baseball lately. There is a good chance that he ends up being the player of the month for June because of how good he has been. He led off with another home run on Monday night and then added a second later in the game. Those were two of three hits on a night where he was just absolutely feeling it again.
In Schwarber’s last nine, he has four multi-home run games for 11 total blasts. That tied Frank Howard’s 11 in 9 games that he had during the 1968 season. It seems like this guy just continues to hit big and lead the Nationals to wins. A lot of this started when they moved him to the leadoff spot. For some reason, he has really clicked in that position.
The Cubs always knew he had power but they couldn’t get much more than that out of him. Something is clicking for him right now in Washington. They looked like sellers at the trade deadline before their current hot streak but now they might go for the playoffs. It is funny because Kyle’s performance could have saved him from being traded.
When the Cubs let Schwarber walk, they replaced him with Joc Pederson. He is having a nice year as well but he isn’t even close to the level that Schwarber is at right now. It has been fun to watch but it is tough to see it in another uniform.
Would Schwarber be having this much success in a Cubs uniform? The answer will never be known but the possibility of it has to really annoy fans of the team. They struggle to score as it is but if they had Schwarber playing at this level, things might be different. They are close to being a playoff team but it feels like a year that they come up short. Letting Kyle go is part of the reason why and it is fair to admit that.
Chicago rapper and librarian Roy Kinsey has drawn national attention for his remarkable concept albums and their sensitive, piercingly thoughtful lyrics. In 2018 he dropped Blackie: A Story by Roy Kinsey, a deeply personal and thoroughly researched record about race in America that’s informed by Kinsey’s family history and the Great Migration; last year he put out Kinsey: A Memoir, which makes equally nuanced and emotionally resonant observations about Black queerness. Kinsey brings a clear vision to intense subject matter, but that’s not his whole skill set–it turns out he’s just as good at music that’s supposed to be carefree and fun. On his new EP, Juke Skywalker Vol. 1 (House of Marcell), he celebrates by nonchalantly unloading life-affirming verses atop instrumentals built for maximum joy. These songs emphasize Kinsey’s rapping rather than his storytelling–he’s talented enough on the mike that he can lock into the songs’ strict rhythms while still sounding loose. His athletic performances mirror the sweltering juke percussion, and he makes it all seem easy. v
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS – JANUARY 31: (L-R) Nikita Zadorov #16, Kevin Lankinen #32 and Connor Murphy #5 of the Chicago Blackhawks celebrate a win over the Columbus Blue Jackets at the United Center on January 31, 2021 in Chicago, Illinois. The Blackhawks defeated the Blue Jackets 3-1. (Photo by Jonathan Daniel/Getty Images)
The Chicago Blackhawks are not a very good hockey team. They fooled some people early in the 2020-21 season but they have so many flaws. It is going to take years to undo the mistakes made by Stan Bowman. However, there is one flaw that can be patched up that may put a bandaid on some of the overall problems that the team has. That would be the position of goaltender. If they can figure out how to get some help there this summer, they might be okay.
The ChicagoBlackhawks have some big decisions to make over the summer.
When Corey Crawford left in free agency to ultimately retire before the season even started, the Hawks knew they were in trouble. People saw Malcolm Subban, Collin Delia, and Kevin Lankinen as a disaster of a trio and they were right for the most part. Lankinen had a nice year but one out of three is not good enough.
Some people believe that Lankinen can be an organization’s number one goalie in the league and they may be right. With that said, the doubters also might be right as he came back down to earth as the 2020-21 season went along. The best course for the team would probably be to find someone who can share the net with him so he can continue to work on his craft.
If they go into next season with Collin Delia or Malcolm Subban as his backup, they are in big trouble. The free-agent market is actually loaded with goaltenders who can help Lankinen out. There are goalies like Frederik Anderson, Devan Dubnyk, Antti Raanta, and Jaroslav Halak amongst others to consider once the free agency period opens. If the Blackhawks added someone like that to the mix, they might have a very formidable duo.
Of course, having another good goaltender isn’t going to fix all of the problems. However, it can mask a lot of them. The Hawks play a system that doesn’t even slightly fit their roster but it may work if they get elite goaltending. It shouldn’t be too hard for them to recognize that but then again, it is Stan Bowman we are talking about here.
Any team that is confident in their goalies is confident in themselves as a hockey team. If you are solid at that position, you have a chance to win every night. The Hawks don’t do much to help out their goaltenders lately but guys like Corey Crawford and Robin Lehner have shown that it can be done. It would be nice to see the Hawks do something about this issue going forward.
There’s a heaviness in the air. Storms blow through, and in between the sky is steely and dense, and the humidity is so high you have to chew each breath to swallow it down.
I feel as though the air is crushing me, pressing on my chest, blinding me. But everything is fine, I say, and I believe it. I’m laughing. I’m going out with friends. I’m occasionally accomplishing tasks. I manage to cook, and even eat most days. And then that heaviness gets to me and all I can do is cry. I snap. It feels like it comes out of nowhere. It comes from everywhere. It comes from the clouded sky, low, overlapping clouds drifting overhead that turn every sunrise, sunset, and minute in between into the same greenish haze of relentless heat, with breakthrough showers and drizzles and cloudbursts, and no relief. The days disappear into each other.
But when the sun shines, it’s worse. It burns, it blinds, and it exposes. Under the blaze of its rays I sit in front of the DSW and sob and scream and puke into an old Culver’s bag while my daughter cries in the back seat. She listens to my friend on the car speaker, telling me to name five things I see, four things I can hear…
“That’s the thing you tell me to do, Mommy,” she says, in between her own bouts of tears and mouthfuls of the popcorn I fortunately brought along. I apologize to her over and over for having to watch me and hear me like this. I have never been like this. I have no idea how I became like this. I have no idea what kind of person I am, if the kind of person I am is one who cannot handle the world enough to take a breath and keep going in the face of suspiciouslly operose obstacles.
It doesn’t matter that I don’t remember to do these grounding exercises on my own, my friend tells me that the important thing is that I called for help, and it’s on the way.
When the gloom returns it feels eternal, cloying and inescapable. Thunder rolls through, lightening flashes, and the kittens wake me by leaping in panic onto my face and chest each time the windows shake. They wake me from dreams I can’t remember, but I feel the dread and anxiety of them lingering. I think of the days after my second rape, hiding in my apartment and waking up screaming with the memories of nightmares so vivid they become tentpoles of my identity. Only now, I have no identity. I can’t write about dreams I can’t remember. I can’t paint representations of anxieties I don’t understand. And in the meantime, I look up at the unchanging color of the sky and find myself shocked at the number of hours that have passed.
My social media tells me all about what happened “one year ago today,” and without fail, it’s a photograph of me and Mike, along with the updates I sent over and over again. The optimistic tone, the cheery exclamation points, all of it a massive lie of omission. I read between the lines now and remember the torment. The terror. The pain of watching the most important person in my life suffering. I remember encouraging him to smile, even when he didn’t feel like it. “It’s not for you,” I said. “The kids will see it,” I said. And although he was in pain, although he was afraid, although there was not a single thing in this world that made me genuinely feel like smiling, I smiled, and he smiled with me. I took picture after picture until I had one where the smiles looked real. Sometimes we laughed. Sometimes the smiles never even came close to his eyes.
I didn’t say that he was suffering when I updated people. I knew the only thing keeping his suffering from overwhelming him was that I was there, telling him it was going to be okay. Telling him that things would get better or they would get worse, but they couldn’t stay as they were. “Smile for the update,” I would say. “Smile for the kids,” knowing the first time somebody showed these pictures to them, he was likely to be dead.
From what I remember of last summer, the air was breathable and thin and the summer was light. I only remember spending a few moments watching the rain, a few quick runs between the hospital and a hotel room. The hotel rooms all blur together. But I remember the derecho. A clear sky, then wind so hard and fast it blew down houses completely, then clear skies again. That was what last summer was like. Horrors, and the calm between.
Now the sky is heavy, the air is heavy, the world is heavy. Each day brings another little torment, but they’re mundane. Last year it was pulmonary embolisms and cataclysmic pain and Covid scares and Shana’s death and Mike spending more and more and more time in the wheelchair he hated and less and less time able to see me when I helped him stand. This year it’s the exterior of the house rotting off, the furnace and air conditioner blowing up, my new insurance provider making it impossible for me to get a test that costs three times more for me than it did for Mike, thanks to the inscrutable evil of the American healthcare system. My esophageal implant being moved around by the eventual MRI, before they could scan my brain, and then sitting at home and watching the bill come in anyway.
The word “forever” pops up in my mind, and it terrifies me. I never had to consider “the rest of my life” before, it was only, “the rest of Mike’s life.” And now, that’s where I am. I am beginning the rest of my life. I am at the end of my mid-thirties and as society continues to tell me, life begins at forty. I have a few years to wait until my life begins, and that feels about right. I feel a few years away from having any sense of what I’m doing and how I am.
Or who I am.
I remember the month after my suicide attempt, hiding in my room and learning to paint. I wonder if transformation is ever less than traumatic. I am not who I was before I was raped and attempted to kill myself. I am not who I was before I was raped and stalked. I am not who I was six months ago.
A woman on the phone tries to calm me down while I scream and weep. She’s not trained for this. She’s the scheduler at the MRI suite, but she understands that in between the panicked phrases I’m shouting at her, “My husband died of brain cancer in January,” “That’s my nine-year-old crying in the back seat,” there is a world. “You’re so strong, I can tell you’re so strong,” she says. I collapse against the steering wheel and cry harder, wordlessly, my chest heaving and glasses pressed into the bridge of my nose. I sob under the weight of the air and the sun and the clouds, and my daughter cries, and the woman says, “I can tell you are so strong. I can tell your daughter knows how strong you are.”
I don’t know what that means. “You’re so strong” is a phrase I’ve been hearing so long, but it means nothing. How is it strength that I lose days, a whole week sometimes? How is it strength to stand numbly and write checks for siding and furnace fans and cars and MRIs I didn’t actually get when I haven’t been able to work in over a year? When I haven’t even opened my email in a week? When I haven’t managed to eat anything that didn’t come from a drive-through or a foil bag in days?
What does it mean when “You’re so strong” just informs, “You are still breathing and sometimes you shower and sometimes you laugh and those are basically all the requirements for meeting the definition of living.”
“You’re the strongest person I know,” some people tell me. Many people. Is this their way of congratulating me for not dissolving into the air? For not erupting in flames, or melting into a puddle of grease beneath the ceiling fan, my flesh collapsing around my bones like my insides are a black hole.
At the same time, some people treat me like an idiot child. Like I’m incapable of managing the simplest organizational tasks. Like a helpless fuck-up who wound up with no job and constantly mounting bills and an army of fatherless children, with no capacity for self-improvement. And that doesn’t feel right, either.
I am trying to find who I am. She is a beautiful woman. She is tattooed and smart and funny and quirky and sometimes her wit is like a knife and makes people wince when it cuts. Sometimes she is so full of love and joy that her smile brings people to tears. Sometimes she is so sad that she manifests bouquets of white lilies and nobody walking past her can continue without asking, “Are you okay?”
Sometimes she’s fine. Sometimes she’s reckless. Sometimes she’s lost in the haze of the thick, grey air. Sometimes she wonders if she always knew what the cacophony of birds that sing at 4am sounded like, begging the sun to rise. Sometimes she confuses a white car parked down the block with a snowdrift and doesn’t question the presence of so much snow in the overwhelming solstice heat. Sometimes she sees the rain coming down in sheets and walks onto the yard to stand in it until she’s shivering, completely aware of every place on her skin the ran touches, free of the expectation to be better than she is, stronger than she is, whoever she is. Sometimes she wonders if she ever knew who she was.
For now, she’s a stranger. My friends remind me this is disassociation. It will stop, they tell me. I’ll be back. But I won’t. As the apps assert, there is no going back. The past is like the sky, no matter how used to it you are, how deeply you look, you can’t hold onto it. You can’t touch it. It grows and roils and shifts and you remain with your feet on the ground and your lungs breathing in air that is tainted by it, but keeps you alive all the same. And life is, overall, good.
If strength is continuing to stand with the weight of the sky upon you, goodness is the early morning birdsong. Goodness is the rain soaking into the flowerbeds, and the grey-black sky turning grey-blue again with the sunrise. Goodness is being awake to watch it turn momentarily pink in the east in the hour before the gray settles in again, and to know it’s beautiful.
If it is strength to have the millstone settling upon you and not to become dust, than it is goodness to stand in the rain and not be washed away.
“I know you’re so strong,” the woman said, listening to my heart crush into itself.
Lea Grover scribbles about sex-positive parenting, marriage after cancer, and vegetarian cooking. When she isn’t revising her upcoming memoir, she can be found singing opera, smeared to the elbow in pastels, or complaining/bragging about her children on twitter (@bcmgsupermommy) and facebook.
Fourth Presbyterian Church at Michigan and Delaware. Photo by Pam Spano copyright 2021
After what seemed like an endless pandemic and a brutal winter, Chicago is opening! Outdoor activities, restaurants, worship sites, retail stores and museums are awaiting an eager public. Myself included.
Last year was filled with disappointments from the deaths of friends and family to the cancellations of travel. Despite that, I felt blessed. Immediate family and I were safe and healthy and had the freedom to go out to worship and enjoy the outdoors.
Finally a trip came about! I was traveling to Chicago! The BFF came from out of town and we stayed at a hotel downtown. I’ve lived in this city all my life, but on this “trip” I felt like I was seeing it for the first time. Going to the museums, visiting restaurants and shops felt oddly alien. I had to think about directions and where the streets were. My Ventra card was blowing up as the BFF and I traveled from one end of Michigan Avenue to another and beyond.
The weather was good and the city sparkled. People smiled and conversations with strangers flowed.
Then it was over. The BFF was taken to the airport and I was home again. I unpacked my suitcase with a fresh attitude and in anticipation of the next trip. A visit to New York City with my daughter is coming up next and an almost normal feeling swept over me.
If you are traveling this year, may St. Christopher watch over you and your companions. If you are rediscovering where you live, I pray your trip brings you a new found appreciation of what was already around you.
Be blessed and keep the faith!
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One person was killed, and 10 others were wounded in shootings Monday in Chicago.
A man was fatally shot in West Pullman on the Far South Side. Officers responded to a Shot Spotter alert and found the 24-year-old man in the 11700 block of South Laflin Street, Chicago police said. He was shot multiple times and was pronounced dead at the scene, police said. The Cook County medical examiner’s office hasn’t identified him.
In non-fatal shootings, Three people were shot, including a 14-year-old boy, in an attack in East Garfield Park. The boy, a 34-year-old man and a female were standing on the sidewalk in the first block of South Springfield Avenue about 7:45 p.m. when multiple shooters opened fire, police said. The boy was shot in both legs was taken to Stroger Hospital in fair to serious condition, according to police and Chicago fire officials. The man was struck in the left leg and taken to the same hospital in serious to critical condition, police and fire officials said. The female, whose age was unknown, suffered a gunshot wound to the left calf and refused medical attention at the scene, police said.
Seven others were wounded in shootings citywide.
Last weekend, seven people were killed, and 71 others were wounded in weekend shootings in Chicago as the city reaches the halfway point of what could be one of its most violent years in decades.
Four of the attacks were mass shootings with four or more people wounded. The attacks accounted for nearly a third of all the shooting victims between Friday evening and early Monday morning.
There are no restrictions to shopping or important decisions. The moon is in Pisces.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
Today you feel restless but in a pleasant, expectant way. That’s because you want some excitement in your life! However, because of this, you are tempted to do something secretly or from behind the scenes that will stir the pot so that you can see a little action. (Oops, be nice.) Be careful what you wish for.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
You might meet someone unusual. Perhaps they are avant-garde or from another culture? Or possibly, someone you already know will say or do something that surprises you. One thing is certain: A friend or a member of a group will do something you didn’t expect. Stay flexible and off your heels.
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
When dealing with parents, bosses and the police, be careful of your urge to create a little excitement in your life. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. Your urge to wake the sleeping giant might lead to regrets. Think twice before you act.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
Travel plans look exciting today. One thing is certain, you’re eager for change because you want some adventure and stimulation! At the very least, you want to encounter new ways of thinking and new ideas. Fear not: This will happen. Be open to whatever comes your way.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
Make friends with your bank account so that you know what’s happening because something unexpected could affect your finances today, especially anything to do with bank accounts, debt and shared property. When it comes to money, stay on top of your game.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
A spouse, partner or friend might throw you a curveball. Or possibly, you will meet a new and exciting friend? Whatever happens, someone might give you a chance to break free from your usual scene and do something different. (Something more exciting than slinkies on escalators.)
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
Something interesting will affect your job today. You might meet a new colleague. Surprising news might be exciting? Similarly, something related to your health or a pet could catch you off guard. Hopefully, this surprise will be pleasant.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
This is a mildly accident-prone day for your kids, which means parents should be extra vigilant. However, this is also a fun-loving, exciting day with respect to sportsevents, social outings and the arts. Spontaneous invitations might delight you. Say yes!
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
Something unexpected could affect your home routine today. Very likely, it will be pleasant, which means hopefully, a small appliance will not break down. Surprise company could appear at the door. You might hear unexpected news? Be prepared. Stock the fridge.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
Today you want to shake up the people around you to jolt them out of their velvet rut. (Admittedly, this is for your own entertainment because you want something different to happen.) Relax. New faces, new places, and new ideas are coming down the pike.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
You might be surprised to learn some good news that affects your possessions or your earnings today. You might find something that you had lost? You might see a new way to make money? A spontaneous purchase might please you? Could be anything.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
Today the moon is in your sign dancing with unpredictable Uranus, which makes you want more excitement and adventure in your life. This is why you will look for ways to change your circumstances or your daily environment. You might meet someone who is different. You want some action!
If Your Birthday Is Today
Actress Melora Hardin (1967) shares your birthday. You are a sensitive person who is protective to your loved ones. Home and family matter to you. You are enthusiastic, determined and you have excellent business savvy. This year is one of hard work because you are creating something. You might physically build something or you might build more structure in your life. You are more physically active this year.
