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The latest Saturn/Uranus drama continues. . . and deepens . . .

August 8, 2026

See yesterday’s post.

After spending way too much time on the phone with both my sons, sometimes together, sometimes one at a time, I feel both comforted (that they are totally there for me), and upset (that I put them through my drama).

But then, I’m 83, as son Colin reminded me today.

Colin also reminded me today of another horrid drama also involving money, even more money than the $5K which I will either have to pay or not, depending on what Colin’s attorney tells him on Monday, one that happened a few years ago, and involved me sending $8000 cash, to a man in India who gave me a sob story, and who insisted on cash, rather than another form of payment. Through the mail. What? And get this: not once, but twice! He claimed he didn’t get the first one. So $16K altogether. Though, after much concentration today, I can conjure a vague memory of feeling both confused and guilty after some transaction, I cannot for the life of me figure out what that was about, how it started, what was the sob story that lured me in the first place.

(My natal Neptune, in Libra, at the Midheaven: I’m a sucker for sob stories. Transit Neptune this year, in Aries at the IC root point, directly opposite its birth position.)

And only then, afterwards, did I tell my sons about what happened. Son Sean had to foot the bill.

No wonder my sons now “talk about me behind my back.”

 

That I signed something I shouldn’t have a few days ago, and the drama that ensued, is abhorent to me; but that I did this only a few years ago to an even more extreme extent, and DO NOT REMEMBER, is terrifying.

THERE ARE HOLES IN MY MEMORY.

 

It is time to seriously begin to wind down my all too busy life.

Way more busy than anyone’s I know, no matter what their age.

Not sure how that is going to proceed. What will need to go first.

A VERY sad, Saturn time, at least for now. And this first ever Uranus transit over both itself and Saturn, will not even begin to ease up until March, 2028, when it finalizes this once-in-a-lifetime transit. I told both my sons this, and they both agreed to help work with my astrological timing — even though Sean thinks astrology “nonsense.”

And we’re talking about winding down my entire life in Bloomington Indiana, in preparation for Colin’s and my move to live with Sean in Colorado.

 

What? WHAT? WHAT???! Facing (not yet embracing, and certainly not yet erasing) a sudden Saturn/Uranus eruption . . .

August 7, 2026

Yesterday afternoon, just as I was beginning to think things are clearing up around here, i.e., that transit Uranus approaching my natal Saturn, after returning to its own natal place for the first time, was not going to give me any more Saturn surprises.

But I did feel weirdly uneasy . . .

And then, wouldn’t you know, just like that, I got a phone call about a (SATURN!) contract I had apparently signed online with my ipad early this summer (to add a battery to solar panels on roof of one of the houses; I’m leaving details out here) informing me that if I DON’T follow through with it (I was SURE I had cancelled it within the three day grace period, and have an email as evidence), I will owe 1/3 of the cost anyway. That’s $5K. Well, you can imagine how my Uranus erupted.

WHAT?

WHAT?

WHAT?!!?

I’ve always had to work very hard to continuously calm my extremely volatile nervous system (Mars in Sagittarius opposite Uranus/Saturn in Gemini) so that it doesn’t blow up. Thus my two hours of “physical culture” (4-5 mile walk, plus yoga, chikung, taichi) daily.

Wow! Sudden Uranian recognition, one I’ve never had before! I could view my original childhood terror of nuclear war as a massive projection of my hidden terror that my nervous, finely calibrated mind would suddenly go nuclear and blow me up.

 

So anyway, with help from both my sons, we’re working to figure out how to deal with this intensely Saturnine situation, with no or minimal economic cost.

For one thing: this morning I dragged two rolling garbage bins from each of our three Green Acres Village homes to line the end of the driveway of that house, in case they try to just drop off the battery . . .

And I await a promised call from “the Vice-President” of the company this morning, which I will immediately turn over to my sons to deal with.

And yes, at 83, I am seriously “playing the age card” with this sudden Saturn/Uranus emergency.