There are no certificates of astrological achievement on my wall, just enough suffering to seek answers and enough fateful meandering to help find a few. And once I found 'astrologos', the world began to make sense. It's the science of the intangible, so why wouldn't it?

And anyone can be starstruck, anywhere at any time, without even looking up. So this is my story, fully loaded with nostalgic indulgence. Sorry, it's a slippery slope, so...

The stars struck me in my 14th summer, on a cool, fateful day in Woolworths. My big sister Anne and I were wandering the aisles when a tall, shiny weight scale called to us and we approached, lean and unafraid.

It offered up a zodiac scroll, my first, and I anxiously unfurled this curled enigma....."Your perfect mate is Gemini" it began....."Johnny is a Gemini!" Annie blared and I knew we'd found the Holy Grail.

Six months later Johnny was long forgotten when Annie blew my tiny mind with the hot blue bestseller Linda Goodman's Sun Signs. So beautifully written and so brutally true it's laugh-out-loud funny and fully ignited the New Age.

Total gamechanger. I finally knew it's only natural to be me and not "more like your sweet, quiet little sister," who scripted our family chaos by assigning me the scapegoat role. I was no match for this wily weaver and fell into every trap like an outraged lion and cried myself to sleep. What else could I do? It's only natural to be her, too.

So I clung to my sign bible like a lifeline through the first years of high school. "What's your sign?" I asked the friendly faces and read to whoever indulged me. Smiles all around, from the city buses to school to wherever. Good times.

The 70s were a heady time and Anne and I hit some of the hottest astrology lekshiz around Hahvid Squeya. And we lucked into a lecture with Isabel Hickey, who singled me out for a public dissection. I was barely seventeen, so it was a mortifying intro to my intangible mechanics and a deep EUREKA! Moment.

In 1974 in a burst of serendipity, NYC radio astrologer Paul Guercio came to our unruly city, settling in just down the street from Friendly's. And we were two Friendly girls looking for a little enlightenment.

So Paul showed up at our double doors like hardcore javaheads do, and we pumped him with free refills as he leaked his scheme in his booming vocals. He'd burn the Cosmic Muffin (no buttah) and show Boston how a real astrologer operates. And then we heard these fateful words: "Come to my classes, girls. I'm just down the street and I bet you two love floor pillows." Well duh.
Yes he was but no he didn't.

So we sauntered down to 83 Sycamore to expand our minds in cozy comfort. Life was good and I almost knew it.

One 7 year Saturn cycle later, Paul and I were roomies. I booked his consults and he mentored me for four instructive years. Anne went off to make babies and awhile later I did too - my very first dream. Paul said it's just what Somerville townies do. I took it as a compliment.

And in our roomie days I'd seen his burnout after so many consults, when desperate seekers bled him dry, and I knew it wasn't for me. I struggled to steer my own life, let alone anyone else's. I was 26 and pondered a different route, where astrology was still my destination.

My second dream was teaching and a how-to book could fit the bill at a comfy distance from needy people. Simplify the basics to map out the landscape so no one gets lost in the weeds. And no head spins or eye rolls, a tall order for a how-to astrology book.

Imagine you've walked your 1000 acres 1000 times with only your memory to guide you. Then you're handed a detailed map and discover that your little hill is actually a deep cavern, with a singing waterfall, dancing emeralds and an endless pot of gold.

Much more was ahead to shape my dream, but with Taurus rising I do moove slow, so I may die first. But dreams never do or life would be udderly hopeless.

So it's '91 and my family is settled in Lexington, when a Good man blows into town to fulfill his own dream, a print shop called Copy Plus. A more ironic name there never was and it's exactly what I need to duplicate my prototype.

Three seasons later and against my insistent persistent resistance, this larger than life Triple Aries Mac Wizard woos me into his arms and my feet stop touching the ground.

Fourth dimensional rendering

More time passes and the Wizard teaches me computer skills, so I build my site and do a (very) little writing. And we raise our beautiful blended family of six. Then our beautiful boy makes seven, emerging on the summer solstice like he's having second thoughts. His creative soul inspires me pre and post arrival and I finally have the missing piece for my how-to book. Life is Good man.

MEANWHILE in '93...
Paul was forecasting politics when a gubmint physicist made him an offer he could not refuse: guide a gubmint programmer to develop a forecasting graph. (I know, right?) The result was TimeTraks. So the two called themselves the Merlin Project and made the media rounds. More for Paul than the physicist, who had what he came for.

(Since I know how it's done I made a manual graph and the physicist was pissed. I was a little more than a little worried, but still sold a few.)

In 2016 Paul hired me to sort through a flood of inquiries when their TimeTraks forecasted a Trump-Sanders face-off that no one else saw coming. But Bernie pussied out and not even a ruthless will can trump a low energy TimeTrak.

links to the show: 1 2; skillfully avoiding the word astrology

In 2019 Paul died soon after a devastating betrayal, the physicist departed with the TimeTraks and that was that. Paul taught all his students to keep it simple, to make astrology more accessible and no less profound. His friendship and coattails are missed.

Thanks so much for your time and curiosity. This website is a work-in-progress and you'll find some astrological info here. I'm building towards a book. Mooooo