What have the stars got in store for you this spring? Our astrologer has put together your Fritz spring horoscopes for adults and kids, too…
(21 Mar to 20 Apr)
Secretly praying for Tony Jones to ask you to appear on Q&A has kept you fairly quiet all winter. Collecting random facts, polishing opinions and sharpening your soliloquy is a reasonable game plan, but you need an audience. Your workmates turn on you around 23 October, sending you home to exasperate your significant others. By 10 December you’re out on the street vox popping at public nuisance capacity. It’s not until you find something solid to stand on later in December that you realise your apparent fervour is scaring kind folk away. Time to play nicely with others.
Little Rammy spends a large portion of spring playing in the daisies and just wanting peace. Well, mostly peace, not like boring peace or staying still peace or calm peace. Peace with a purpose.
(21 Apr to 21 May)
When spring kicks off, the creative juices are flowing and a delightful oozing of ideas ensues. Sadly, by 15 October, your boss throws a serviette at you and demands you mop up the mess. As you soak up your distaste for being embroiled in the demands of others you daydream about being left alone in the forest (and maybe a bear attacking and eating your boss). Luckily, from 23 to 29 December grace is given to your ambition. Even if you aspire to be a misanthrope, you’ll find a way to do it with charm and style.
Little Bull moves from creative genius to disturbing child requiring some kind of assessment and intervention. Their inner peace-keeper has been held hostage and won’t be released until 23 October. Count the days.
(22 May to 22 Jun)
You start with your ducks in a row but they lose concentration and gate-crash the pool party next door. Fun times for all until your significant duck has words with you about your behaviour. Feathers fly as you’re confronted by a barrage of social commentary that’s well off the common sense scale. You don’t give a duck about what others think but they keep dragging you into their pond. When the party season is in full swing from 3 to 22 December, chances are you’ll absent-mindedly leave the other duck at home. Blame it on early-onset socially induced duck dementia.
Little Gemmy will have trouble standing their ground. Invitations, comments, criticisms and parties are all mixed into a bristling barrage of social fairy floss. Prepare a quiet space and arm the gatekeeper.
(23 Jun to 23 Jul)
If you insist on wearing your pyjamas all day, better make them good ones because this will not be a quiet spring. Your random mood generator will still be on, but an astute observer will step back far enough to see a pattern: position, build, share, secure. Whether you’re making an origami carport or preparing for the Battle of Castle Black (it’s a Game of Thrones thing), you’ve got a plan this time, haven’t you courageous Cancer? You’re a closed circuit of motivational self-sufficiency. Although if someone brought snacks, you wouldn’t turn them away.
Little Cancer has thrown their self-soothing device to the side and plunged headlong into a project. If all is good with them, rest easy. If you’re on rocky ground, expect nil access to their bedroom and call the exterminators.
(24 Jul to 23 Aug)
With the AFL season barely behind us and the smoke still wafting from backyard barbecues across the burbs, you find yourself lamenting your un-plumbed, esky-laden, hastily-hung temporary television viewing grand final soirée. By 23 October you’ve had irritating quotes for outdoor blinds, drawn up plans for the Peruvian firepit (not giving a fig about EPA guidelines), and sold a kidney to pay for an outdoor kitchen that leaves the indoor kitchen seriously doubting itself. Get it all done before 21 December because your boss will want that other kidney and your soul before Christmas break-up.
After a few short weeks of uninhibited and unexpected concentration, Little Leo will burst forth into the social scene. Entertaining at home will be the flavour of this season. Stock up on chips, lemonade and ear plugs.
(24 Aug to 23 Sep)
Disturbed by the tweets of nesting birds (yes, birds tweet, too) around 23 October you look up from your current pursuit, stretch your arms and book yourself into the chiropractor. With the kinks knocked out, that plan to dig a cellar acquires new optimism. You assemble a team of like-minded individuals and plough on until 10 December when you discover a pygmy possum burial ground and SA Museum shuts you down. It will take until late December to finish the paperwork and remove all the possums. By then your new love of possums overtakes your cellar inclinations.
Little Virgo is caught somewhere between teacher’s pet and cool kid. On one hand, bad behaviour should be reported. On the other hand, it’s nice to be liked. Head down, tail feathers up is the only response.
(24 Sep to 23 Oct)
A private sense of beauty could be behind your decision to revive the Princess Diana hair flick (not gender specific). While you’re out shopping for a curling wand and über-hold hairspray, you realise the rules of fashion by which you have lived are, indeed, arbitrary. This shakes your world until 15 October, when the fashion planets re-align and your aesthetic senses return to order. But the shadow of doubt remains and the curling wand stays in the drawer whispering your name in the wee hours. Sate your desire with fancy dress.
Little Libra in druid fashion will call in the four directions of the compass and invite the local magpies to lunch. The trance will break as they hear the ding of their Instagram account, but the maggies will keep coming back.
(24 Oct to 22 Nov)
You think you’ve got everything squared away neatly when some dude in orange robes wanders in (mindfully) and tells you that control doesn’t exist. WHAT?! What the hell have you been working towards all these years? From 8 to 12 October, the sun will shine some light on that, but not how you think. Sure, you’ve been working hard on building something for yourself but that something might look different in the dappled rays of spring sunshine. Let’s hope it lightens the control load because November lets your whip-cracking self back out of the cage. Better come up with a safe word.
Maybe run through the school code of conduct with Little Scorp before 11 November, y’know just to jog their memory. Anyone foolish enough to distract them from their plans will receive a firm and direct response.
(23 Nov to 21 Dec)
The green grass on the other side beckons. It feels like time is running out to break through and guts it down, but the fence keeps changing shape until you’re not even sure it’s a fence any more. Maybe it’s the veil between us and the spirit world, which is even more confusing because you don’t believe in that crap. By the time the sun enters Sagittarius on 23 November, a trip to the spirit cabinet feels like the only sensible action. With Christmas comes an outrageous sense of self-belief that will take you to the other side.
Wanting more is on Little Sag’s business card. But more of what? More emotional security is the end game, but how they get it will be random, surprising and a little unsettling.
(22 Dec to 20 Jan)
After an unprecedented period of going on about your projects, your friends could be forgiven for scuttling like beetles into the shadows when you walk into the beer garden. But they won’t, bless them. They will wonder how they never noticed the Trojan horse being built in your backyard and will have to accept that they’ve been half-listening to your endlessly detailed descriptions. They will, eventually, applaud your capacity to persist and salute your innovative self-sufficiency. Full respect will arrive on 21 December as they realise the horse has a solar-powered mini-bar and wi-fi.
When the building engineer arrives to check the soil subsidence under your house, you realise that your quiet Little Cap has been slowly dismantling it with the tool kit you bought from Bunnings. Sausages are safer.
(21 Jan to 19 Feb)
You can feel the luck in the stars and your frisky risky nervous system has put $20 on red. Lucky is your middle name. The bad news is that Lucky is also the nickname of every person or animal that has suffered an unfortunate event. Your boundless optimism and creative mercantilism will fade by 15 October, so be wise. After that you’ll only have your kick-arse intellect and innovative self-reliance to keep the wolves from the door. Try not to get punchy in early December as the full Moon ramps up your socialising and the nervous system overloads.
Energetic overload may see Little Aquarius zapping light bulbs and fritzing the toaster if they don’t get enough park time. Remove all fried appliances and discourage DIY electrical work. Invincible is a Marvel concept, not reality.
(20 Feb to 20 Mar)
As long as Neptune roams around in your sign (a long time), the daily grind will simultaneously frustrate and elude you. Every now and then something will snap you back into reality, but it will still be your brand of reality. And while you may think you’re treading the hard-worn reality pavement, early December will switch those rose-coloured glasses to magenta. Unless you’re an artist or florist, this will frustrate anyone paying you to do tasks. Even the florist will be terse when you get the funeral wreath mixed up with the ‘Happy Birthday Grandma’ order. Wear heavy shoes.
With no real responsibilities, Little Pisces will delight and surprise with their amusing assessment of reality. The cat will lose weight and the litter tray will pile up with poo, oh how you’ll laugh!