Belfire Birthday

If you can't party with others, then party alone.

That was the mantra on the night of my 39th solar return, or birthday, whose date is so close to Beltane that the celebrations for both often get conflaggerated, and either interfere with each other schedule-wise or are combined into one. But it was a moot issue this year, with precautions against the Covid-19 pandemic virus keeping (or attempting to keep) everyone at a safe distance apart, if not at home.

So what did I do? I stayed home, for one, except running a single grocery errand to Trader Joes, which can take over two hours if you factor in the washing and sanitizing of groceries. Otherwise, I enjoyed just being home! On the night of the 2nd, I took a relaxing epsom salts bath, then because I still felt energetic --- darn that graveyard shift! --- I stayed up to watch my birth-time roll over, adjusted for Texas time.

The sun shines at an angle on a grubby patch of SE Texas, giving oil wells right in people's backyards no place to hide. Not far from here, nearly four decades ago, I was born. . . .

I put on my iTunes playlist I hadn't listened to for months, and I danced like a crazy thing, tiny yet huge ecstatic dance on a mere six square feet (if that; it might've been but three) of carpet space. I've been in touch a little with my Texan roots lately not only due to birthplace but the connection with oil, so it was appropriate that Sheryl Crow's "Shotgun" was the first song on my randomizing playlist! At the moment of rollover, I finally opened my specialty bottle of Red Velvet Baileys and celebrated myself, trying to dance to "Jessica" and spilling my drink as I did so. Good times! It's a welcome feeling from past times to dance that hard, and quite literally work the kinks out.

Goddess is strong in me lately, so I lit my altar candles while I did this dancing and included Her in the celebration, then finished off with "The Singing in the Silence", one of the most Goddess-powered songs I know of.

A frivolous yet talismanic present to myself, from Etsy: Texas souvenir bracelet and oil well charm with oil inside

I woke fairly refreshed, which is much welcome for a night shift worker --- Friday I slept, while Saturday the 2nd I got up at 1 p.m., had trouble keeping my eyes open all day and even had to nap. But I still relaxed in bed for a bit, returning birthday calls from Dad and Gran, texts and Facebook wishes. Introvert though I am, I was glad, at least on my birthday, to feel noticed and loved!

An in-home birthday included long-awaited 'round the house interests like attempting some infused flower oils. Last night I spread lilacs on a paper to wilt before infusing them, because too much water in a plant-oil infusion will result in mold. Things like this are always an experiment anyway, but if I do it right, hopefully with multiple infusions, I should have a delicate-scented floral oil. Lilac season is a happy one, but it's so short, small wonder we try to preserve and extend it where possible!

Another thing I'd been longing to do more of is baking. Since it was my birthday, I thought it a good time to whip up some treats to celebrate, such as the second batch of dandelion-rosemary shortbread cookies, a beer bread mix I'd been wanting to try, and finally a "cake" consisting entirely of box-mix blonde brownies in a deep blue moon of a Pyrex baking bowl.

At about 6 p.m. my housemate Justine, of German descent, invited me to hang out in back next to the barbeque and enjoy some genuine German sausage made here in town by a heritage family, along with what else but ...beer. Then we lit a fire in the firebowl, made s'mores as the sun set, and enjoyed watching the flames and embers make art under the moon.

I swear, I can see a spirit in these flames! An exuberant, joyful, yet nonetheless take-no-shit, dancing female spirit with what some of my friends refer to as "big dick energy." Perhaps it's just flame, yet brings up inside me the essence of the divine female, the divinity I call Naphta, or simply the creative energy --- energy of joy, manifestation, and love for life (despite my dislike of many aspects of my own species right now, my love for the Universe has not diminished). Or maybe there really is a spirit in there. Look at it!

Love this one, with flaming wings:

For over a month, a group of us Earth-spiritual types of at least two covens have been on tenterhooks to see whether it would be safe to hold Beltaine in the Grove 2020, the reiteration of last year's great Maypole festival and my first overnight Pagan celebration, at which Gaia and Naphta spoke to me so powerfully, and where I'd made spindles to sell and also begun making my Ogham staves. Today, my birthday, we found out B.I.T.G. had been canceled.

While the flames burned, I brought down the remnants of sticks I'd used to make the Oghams, and some old smudge and intention leaves. For release, I wrote on a leaf: "All the old shit", figuring Goddess knew exactly what I meant. On the other side I welcomed in ambition, to "fly with the changing currents of nature", and my full creative power. As in, let's do this shit. Our little backyard pot fire was now a legit Belfire!

One of the coals made a delightful upright "tower of fiery doom":

How long has fire beguiled us, and with good reason, as it seems very much alive. I love these twinkling embers:

Afterward, I hit the kitchen again. Birthday it might be, but I knew tomorrow evening I'd begin another four-day stretch of 12-hour night shifts. Such a schedule is so grueling, it leaves very little time or energy for anything besides working, sleeping, or commuting (not counting a shower). If I didn't prepare food ahead of time, I'd be scrambling to get decent midnight lunches together, as I had last week. So I made a stack of delicious (and versatile) flour tortillas for work lunches. Only then, my work finished shortly after midnight, was I ready to celebrate some more. . . .

🍦🍰🍨🍧🍦
🎵...happy birthday to me...🎶
🍷🍸🍹

Spare birthday candles from years past made for a simple but effective rendition of a beloved American tradition. Even if no one sees or hears, one person's song and wish still counts.

Then I savored my cookie-brownie-cake with ice cream and went to bed!

Happy quarantined birthday to me.