Larisa A. White

My DaD.

My DaD.

a candle is lit up in the dark with a single flame coming out of it Alt: a candle is lit up in the dark with a single flame coming out of it

Ernest John Naples
Devoted Father & Husband
Architect • Master Craftsman • Audiophile
Lover of Beauty

(14 January 1942 - 24 November 2025)

Your life with us has passed; but your light is eternal.
Rest in peace, DaD.

So sad to hear about this forest in flames! I have many fond memories of hiking and camping there as a child with the Girl Scouts.

Welcome to the grove!

You have been added. Please go ahead and post an intro to the feed, when you have a chance. And don't forget the Awen for any posts you wish to appear in the feed. Welcome to the Bluesky Druid Grove!

Golden afternoon sunlight filters down through the canopy of a redwood forest.

A soul-soothing afternoon at Purissima Creek Redwoods, in Half Moon Bay, CA: the quiet, the woodland aromas, the soft, spongy forest floor -- just what the doctor ordered!

(Photo courtesy of my 14 y.o. son, Steven.)

/|\

Okay, so share please: what was the coolest new thing you learned there?

Dad was an architect and master-craftsman, creating beautiful works of stained glass, custom oak furniture, tin ceilings, etc. while restoring his Victorian style home in Woodhaven, NY.

He taught me that a well lived life is one spent creating works of beauty for the world.

🕯️

He also liked to remind us that we cannot possibly think on our feet if all we can think about is how much our feet hurt!

Dad always encouraged his daughters to quit any place of employment that worried about women's clothing more than their ideas and skills. He said, "No reasonable employer will care what you wear on your feet, as long as you can think on your feet."

🕯️

Dad always encouraged us to study well and strive for mastery, focusing on one thing at a time, and taking time to do things with care, because: "If you don't think you have time to do it right the first time, what makes you think you'll have time to do it over, later?"
🕯️

My father, Ernest John Naples, has just begun his journey into blessed memory. He has offered me so much wisdom and guidance life, and I'd like to share some of that with you in this 🧵. If you would, please light a candle and say a prayer that his final journey is swift and peaceful. /|\

🕯️

Maybe, but they loved the old one, and it was not much different in terms of dimensions. Just color and material.

How deep do you think they need it to be?

A giant, dark metal, deep-dish-pizza pan filled with water and a few flat rocks sits atop a terra-cotta planter, creating a bird bath nestled among blueberry bushes.

What's wrong with this picture?

A giant, deep-dish pizza pan serving as our new bird bath because the critters flipped and broke the old (pale yellow) pottery bird bath. Birds do not seem to recognize this as a bird-bath, and the other critters are not drinking at it, either.

Any ideas why?

A hardbound copy of "World Druidry: A Globalizing Path of Nature Spirituality" by Larisa A. White, on an oak coffee table, surrounded by flowers and a dish of candy.

The IngramSpark presses are getting flooded with holiday orders. If you'd like to gift/receive a print copy of "World Druidry" this holiday season, order by Nov. 22!

Discounted, author-direct copies can now be purchased via
larisa-a-white.com/worlddruidry...

/|\ #druidsky #pagansky 🎁

Another seasonal gift from my young photographer, Steven White...

Rain chains flowing. Gotta love November in the Coast Range Mountains of California!

Beautiful work. I like the oak best because it looks almost as if it would crunch under foot. The ginkos are my second favorite, but I'd prefer them in their autumn yellow. (Maybe that's just the season.)

I still remember all the land-line phone numbers (they were just called "phone numbers" back then), and a number of those lines still exist, only nobody answers them anymore because of all the robocallers.

Hard to describe -- like trying to convey the flavor of milk to someone who has never tasted dairy. I would describe it as a cross between perfumed flowers and cantaloupe melon.

Four jars of fresh-made firethorn jelly cooling on a cookie rack. Two of the jars are back-lit by a flashlight, to show off the ruby- red color.

First batch complete: 8 cups of joy, awaiting fresh-baked bread.

Love it when useful research falls into my inbox, right when most needed. And also love the faculty culture of sharing rather than gatekeeping knowledge. (Thanks, @jasonmnagata.bsky.social)

🎶🎵We've only just begun...🎶🎵

🥳🥳🥳

What a night. And just warming up for 2026!

10 cups of firethorn tea, stored in two half-gallon mason jars.

10 cups of firethorn tea, waiting to be processed into jelly, tomorrow.

I always love the rich color of this jelly - almost fluoresces.

For print, that is.

Well of course. I would never do it any other way. But even so, Amazon takes 40% minimum, even when I send them the business.

Love this infographic. Spot on!

Not edible! But a tea made from boiling the berries (and strained through a jelly bag) can make a delightful jelly.

Not edible! But a tea made from boiling the berries (and strained through a jelly bag) can make a delightful jelly.

Giant pot of pyracantha berries, washed and ready for jelly-making.

My favorite part of November: pruning the neighbor's thorny pyracantha bushes & harvesting the berries for firethorn jelly!