You will find yourself appointed Lord Chancellor. Or possibly not. You will not take on the job of Speaker in the House of Lords, or possibly you will for a bit. You will also be responsible for the Scotland Office and the Welsh Office, which will also be abolished, except they won't, and you won't be responsible for them. Well, you might manage their old staff. You won't be head of the judiciary either. Well, OK, you could be.

You will start from Pembroke Dock punctually and call at all stations to Narberth punctually. Proceeding at a slow pace, you will then stop for no particular reason in the bit of countyside between Llannelli and Swansea. The train conductor will cite 'Operational Difficulties'. There will be a cow on the line near Baglan which will take much shooing from a signalman before the train is allowed to proceed. The buffet will run out of sandwiches just prior to Brigend, will close at Newport and will not reopen until Yatton having been restocked at Bristol Temple Meads. Someone will get their luggage stuck in the doors at Weston Super Mare. Your lucky platform number is three.

Today you will be indecisive. Don't rush around, just take it easy but do cut corners. Stick to the middle of the road and ignore other people. You will give off confusing signals to others but don't worry about that. You may see some signs on your travels, but they don't apply to you. Lucky gear, second.

You will spend much of today hanging around in a playpen, wearing a nappy. Eating, sleeping, excreting, belching and manually and orally investigating stuff around you figure large in your chart. A particularly good day for dribbling.

Whilst in general you tend to the vegetarian side of living, because of your size/tendencies/general demeanour you can unwittingly turn underlings into mincemeat. Watch out for the solstice as this is when you stretch things to the ultimate. Advice: keep your head down and don't put your neck on the block.