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12/05/11 - NNHS Newsletter - The First Noel
This December,
That love weighs more than gold!

Josephine Dodge Daskam Bacon
(17 Feb 1876 - 29 July 1961)

Dear Friends and Schoolmates,  

   Today's old English (no, not French!) carol is being revisited from 2005.

BONUS #1 - - The First Noel - Frank Sinatra

BONUS #2 - - The First Noel - Church Choir - sing-along version

BONUS #3 - - The First Noel - Elvis Presley

BONUS #4 - - The First Noel - Crash Test Dummies, 1991 or 1991 (depending on which label you believe...)

BONUS #5 - - The First Noel - Celtic Woman, 2007?

BONUS #6 - - The First Noel - The University of Utah Singers conducted by Dr. Brady R. Allred, 2009

BONUS #7 - - The First Noel - Susan Boyle, 2010 - no video, but hey.....


The First Noel is unknown in origin but is generally thought to be English dating back to the sixteenth century. There is a misconception that the First Noel was French and it is believed that this is because of the French spelling of Noel as opposed to the olde English Anglo-Saxon spelling of the word as in Nowell. After England was captured by the Normans numerous words were adopted from the Norman French language and Noel was re-spelt as Nowell, early printed versions of this carol use the Nowell spelling. The First Noel was first published in 1833 when it appeared in "Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern," a collection of seasonal carols gathered by William B. Sandys.


The First Nowell (also written The First Noël) is a traditional classical English carol, most likely from the 18th century, although possibly earlier.[2][3] The word Noel comes from the French word Noël meaning "Birthday", from the Latin word natalis "birthday".

In its current form it is of Cornish origin, and it was first published in Carols Ancient and Modern (1823) and Gilbert and Sandys Carols (1833), both of which were edited by William B. Sandys and arranged, edited and with extra lyrics written by Davies Gilbert Hymns and Carols of God. Today, it is usually performed in a four-part hymn arrangement by the English composer John Stainer, first published in his Carols, New and Old of 1871.[3]

The melody is unusual among English folk melodies in that it consists of one musical phrase repeated twice, followed by a variation on that phrase. All three phrases end on the third of the scale. The refrain, also unusually, merely repeats the melody of the verse. It is thought to be a corruption of an earlier melody sung in a church gallery setting "The First O Well"; a conjectural reconstruction of this earlier version can be found in the New Oxford Book of Carols.[4]


     From Me ('65) of NC - 12/02/11 - "December Themes":

   Speaking of music, I can either start rerunning old themes for the rest of the month, or y'all can request some personal favorites.  We are particularly lacking in Hanukkah music (I think I only have two!); any help you can render there would be greatly appreciated.  Thanks!


   Happy Birthday today to
Eugene Peters ('57) AND the late    Gene Peters ('57) (deceased - 07/24/09) AND      Melody Clendenin DeBerry (Warwick HS - '66) of VA!!

   Happy Birthday tomorrow to Frances Scheinman Berkman ('57)!

   Happy Birthday this week to:

07 -   Jay Styles ('68) of VA AND  Janice Pratt McGrew (Hampton HS - '67) of VA AND    Tim Parsons ('73) of VA;

09 - Shirley Smith Langston ('57);

10 -     John Murden ('60) of VA AND   Glen Davenport ('63) of VA;

12 -    Mary Massey Lyle ('61) of NJ AND      Marcus C. Higgins ('65) of AZ AND       Tom Norris (Hampton HS - '73) AND   My #2 Daughter-in-Law, Bethany Winona Harty (Siuslaw HS, OR - '94) of TX! 

   Many Happy Returns, One and All!


From Day/thisday1205.htm:        

Thursday, Dec. 5, 1861

Even with the severe shortage of vessels for the use of the U.S. Navy, which required the purchase of private ferryboats and the like for troop and supply transports, there were still some old wooden ships that were just plain useless for any sort of warfare. They were being put to use, however, as part of the “Stone Fleet”. They were loaded with rocks until they would barely float, then taken up into the inlets of Southern rivers as far as practicable and then sunk as impediments to blockade-runners. Flag Officer Samuel duPont had more of these than he knew what to do with at Savannah, Ga. “With Wassaw that city is more effectively closed than a bottle with wire over the cork. One good thing they did, I have not a doubt they were taken for men-of-war and led to giving up the Wassaw defenses.” DuPont decided to ship them to Capt. James Lardner at Charleston, to see if they might do the same there.

Friday, Dec. 5, 1862

The United States Naval Academy was no longer located “where the Severn meets the Sea”, having been moved North at the outbreak of the war. That the Severn River was heavily infested with Confederate ships was proven today by Comdr. E. A. Parker of the USS Mahaska and Lt. Blake of the USS General Putman. They sailed their little fleet up this waterway almost to Annapolis, Md., and along with their ship's boats did some damage. “Several fine boats” were taken and sunk, they reported. The small boats then ventured up even smaller branches of the river and bagged a schooner and two sloops, also destroyed. Finally they succeeded in capturing the schooners Seven Brothers and Galena, and these were now undergoing a change of management and flags.

Saturday, Dec. 5, 1863

It was a day of considerable activity for this late in the year, but each individual action was small and more or less incidental to armies being on the move. In Tennessee it was the corps of James Longstreet marching away from Knoxville and toward planned winter quarters in Greenville, Tenn. This led to skirmishes around the Clinch River, particularly at Walker's Ford. Other unpleasantness occurred at Raccoon Ford, Va., and Crab Gap, Tenn. Far to the east, another misfortune befell the U.S. Navy at Murrell’s Inlet, S.C. A party sent ashore in a small boat from the USS Perry was set upon and captured. An almost identical incident had befallen a party from the USS T. A. Ward a few days earlier.

Monday, Dec. 5, 1864

Gen. William T. Sherman had had episodes of nervous instability before in his life. A term as administrator of the huge Department of the Ohio had been so frustrating that he asked to be relieved, then suffered a nervous breakdown. He was now engaged in the campaign of his life, that history would call the March to the Sea. He was not, however, sleeping very well. One of his officers, Maj. Henry Hitchcock, wrote in his diary that he often saw Sherman come out of his tent late into the night, perhaps to walk around or just to sit by the fire. He was clad in a style perhaps best concealed by the dark of night: “Bare feet in slippers, red flannel drawers,” Hitchcock recorded, “..woolen shirt, old dressing gown with blue cloth (half-cloak) cape.” He had eccentricities of dress even in daytime: while riding on march he never wore boots, preferring low-cut shoes. He wore only one spur, never two.

    From Glenn Dye ('60) of TX - 12/03/11 - "World's Biggest Dog":

Imagine taking him for walkies! George the Great Dane is 7 ft. 3 inches long, 43 inches tall, weighs 245 lbs., and is the world's biggest dog... but he's terrified of Chihuahuas.

By Dave Nasser

The first time we saw George, our beloved Great Dane, he was no more than a tiny, cowering ball of fuzzy fur.

As my wife Christie opened the door of the crate he’d travelled in, he teetered to a standing position and looked out at us, moving his head slowly from side to side, taking in the wonder of it all.

Finally, as if weighing us up and deciding we were acceptable, he tentatively pushed his little nose forward and gave Christie her first lick.


Man's biggest friend:
Devoted owner Dave
Nasser with George,
the world's biggest dog
A doggone miracle:
George the Great Dane
 with the Nasser's daughter
Annabel at home in Arizona
Puppy love: A young George
with Dave's wife Christie.
Even as a pup he had
comically large paws
Magnificent: George
measures more than 7 feet
from nose to tail
and weighs 245 lbs.
Paws for thought:
George's giant feet
dwarf Dave's hand
With size comes problems:
George the giant barely
fits in the back
of his owner's SUV
Though it didn’t really register, George’s paws were comically large even then. But all we saw was this cute puppy.
We certainly never dreamed he would one day become the biggest dog in the world, standing nearly 4 feet high at the shoulder, 7 feet long and weighing nearly 18 stone. Right now, he just looked bewildered.
He came into our lives in January 2006, just a few months after we had married and set up home in Arizona. We both had busy jobs, Christie selling medical equipment while I was a property developer, but she had always planned that, once she had a house of her own, she would also have a dog. 

She wanted a Great Dane as they make great family pets, so we tracked down a litter of 13, born 1,000 miles away in Oregon. Their owner emailed us a photo showing a chaotic jumble of paws, snouts and tails.

Twelve were entangled with one another, but our eyes were drawn to one pup standing apart from the rest. He was clearly the runt, endearing him to Christie immediately.

George made the long journey from Oregon to Phoenix by plane and we picked him up from the freight area, tired but unshaken.

As soon as George settled into our home, we discovered our plans to be fair but firm parents were wishful thinking.

All the things that make Great Danes wonderful pets — their lack of aggression and their attachment to humans — make them more emotionally sensitive than other dogs.

They need to be with their ‘pack’ at all times and at night the cute pup with intensely blue eyes turned into a caterwauling banshee whenever we tried to leave him alone in the kitchen.

No matter how much we reminded ourselves that he had every home comfort (warm dog bed, warm blanket, warm kitchen, squeaky bone), each whimper created a picture in our heads of a tragic, abandoned pup, desperate for his mother.

Eventually, we gave in and shunted George’s dog bed into our bedroom. In the coming months, Christie really threw herself into being a mum to George. As well as a photo album, he had a growth chart — we were soon reading it in awe.

At five months he still acted like a puppy, chasing his tail and playing games of fetch and tug-of-war with his favourite bit of rope. But he was already the size of a fully-grown Labrador.

He was putting on more than a pound a day and he bounded around like Bambi, skittering on our wooden floors and hurling himself at everything he fancied, including us humans. His displays of affection could leave you pinned temporarily against a wall or a piece of furniture.

His size did not go unnoticed in the outside world. Our local park had a section for puppies but we were bullied out of it by other owners, who were scared George would hurt their pups, — but the opposite was true.

The smaller dogs ran around and under him, and he’d be constantly sidestepping them, obviously anxious and jittery. Slowly we realized that our enormous puppy was a big softie. Besides his terror of being left alone, he had a fear of water.

He’d growl anxiously at the side of our swimming pool, alarmed that his ‘pack’ members would so willingly place themselves in danger of drowning.

If the pool was his most-hated place, his favorite was our bedroom. Eventually he outgrew the single mattress we placed there for him and preferred instead the comfort of our king-sized bed — sprawling between us like some over-indulged prince while we spent half the night clinging onto the edges.

In the summer of 2006, we solved this problem by buying him his own queen-sized mattress, which he still sleeps on today at the bottom of our bed.

But soon we encountered another challenge as George reached doggie puberty. Once he had grabbed life by the lapels, now he was grabbing onto legs — table legs, chair legs, human legs, he wasn’t picky — and doing what all male dogs do with the vigor of a canine giant.
He calmed down in the furniture department after we had him neutered, but then he took up a new hobby, eating as if it were an Olympic sport.

A sausage on the barbecue was like a siren to a passing sailor. You couldn’t turn your back for a minute. And he was so tall that he actually had to bend down to pinch food off kitchen counters.

He could reach the high shelves as well, so we had to hide everything away in cupboards. Soon, he was getting through around 100 lbs. of dry dog food every month.

As he approached his first birthday in November 2006, weighing about 14 stone, it was getting physically impossible to make him go anywhere he didn’t want to — including the vet’s surgery. He had not forgotten the time he went there in possession of his manhood — and came out less than whole.

As soon as he recognized the entrance, he refused to move. So I had to take him around to the less familiar back door instead.

For all these troubles, George gave us plenty in return, not least the following year when Christie lost the baby she was carrying.

Evidently tuned in to her grief, George was a constant presence at her side. When she sat, he sat too. When she stood, he stood and padded alongside her to wherever she was going.

His personality grew more delightful the bigger he got. A male Great Dane typically weighs from nine to 11 stone, but by Christmas 2007 George weighed 15 stone — bigger than most men. At this point, he loved being chauffeured around in my golf cart and would sit in it, his haunches on the seat and front legs on the floor.

By Christmas 2008, our canine colossus weighed 18 stone. A friend suggested he might be a contender for the Guinness Book Of Records, but we had other things to think about: Christie had discovered that she was pregnant again.

The trouble was, when our daughter Annabel arrived that September George made it clear he wanted nothing to do with this interloper. He was used to spending nights in delightful oblivion at the foot of our bed. Annabel’s high-decibel presence simply wasn’t on.

When she cried, he’d wake, harrumph and then turn over in annoyance. Once it was clear the racket was going to continue, he’d exhale heavily again, till one of us finished that mysterious feeding thing we did with the noisy intruder.

But while he might not have cared much for Annabel, George loved her dolls, especially a stuffed green one that played a nursery rhyme when squeezed. Whenever he could, he placed it between his paws and pressed it so he could hear the tune.

It was like a security blanket. It was a period of such big adjustment for him that if it made him happy, then it was fine by us and our patience was rewarded.

Slowly, George understood that Annabel was our pack’s youngest member and in need of his affection and protection. And on Christmas morning, he ended his three-month sulk, acknowledging her presence with a lick of her hand. It was the best present we could have had — although the beginning of 2010 brought more good news.

Over the previous weeks, while Annabel slept, Christie had applied to the Guinness World Records people on George’s behalf. That February, one of their adjudicators came to watch George being measured in the presence of a vet. He was officially declared not just the world’s tallest living dog (43 inches from paw to shoulder) but the tallest dog ever.

The following week we flew to Chicago to appear on the Oprah Winfrey Show and were put up in one of the city’s most luxurious hotels. We had a huge sitting room, dining area and even a bar — but there was just one problem. There was nowhere for George to sleep.

As we enjoyed a gourmet meal and a bottle of red wine that night, he struggled to settle on two roll-out divans provided for him. Infuriatingly, they wouldn’t stay together. So he had his head on one and back end on the other, but his stomach was sagging onto the carpet.

‘You know what we need to do,’ I joked. ‘Give George our bed to sleep on and have the divans in this room ourselves.’

Christie looked at me with a telltale gleam in her eye and I knew immediately my joke had been a fatal error. An hour later, our boy was sprawled in splendor in our huge, fluffy king-size bed.

‘Well,’ whispered Christie, ‘George is the star here, after all.’

She was right, of course, and since his appearance on TV, Giant George has built a following around the world, with his own fan club, website and 70,000 fans on Facebook.

None of this, of course, means anything to George. He still spends his days doing what he has always liked best: eating, playing and sleeping.

Our cherished pet may have become a global celebrity — but really, he’s just one of the family.


   OH. MY. OH, MY.  Thanks, Glenn!

  From Jay Styles ('68) of VA - 12/04/11 - "Christmas Poem/Soldier/Been around/ worth re-reading!":

Been around a couple of times, I think......but well worth the "read."
Please read this to the very end.  It is very good. 


New Christmas Poem

This poem was written by a Soldier.

The following is his request. I think it is reasonable.....

PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. and Canadian service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.
   Thanks so much, Jay Sweetie, this poem is a favorite of mine! I've reprinted the original version here, along with its history:


"The name most often associated with the poem is is that of Air Force Lt. Col. Bruce W. Lovely. He says that he wrote it in 1993 while stationed In Korea.

An article on says the poem was actually written by Corporal James M. Schmidt, described as a former U.S. Marine Scout-sniper and that is was published in LEATHERNECK MAGAZINE in December of 1991, two years before Lt. Col. Lovely claims to have written it."



Thanks to Brett Kramer, who wrote us yesterday with the correct information, we have learned that the beautiful poem sent to us some years ago by one of our "web friends" is a modified copy of the original circulated on the internet for some years. The original poem's true author, James M. Schmidt, was a Lance Corporal stationed in Washington, D.C., when he wrote the poem back in 1986.

The true story of the poem, as told by Lance Corporal Schmidt: "While a Lance Corporal serving as Battalion Counter Sniper at the Marine Barracks 8th & I, Washington, DC, under Commandant P.X. Kelly and Battalion Commander D.J. Myers [in 1986], I wrote this poem to hang on the door of the Gym in the BEQ. When Colonel Myers came upon it, he read it and immediately had copies sent to each department at the Barracks and promptly dismissed the entire Battalion early for Christmas leave. The poem was placed that day in the Marine Corps Gazette, distributed worldwide and later submitted to Leatherneck Magazine."

Schmidt's original version, entitled "Merry Christmas, My Friend," was published in Leatherneck (Magazine of the Marines) in December 1991, a full two years before it was supposedly "written" by someone else on Christmas Eve 1993 (and had appeared in the Barracks publication Pass in Review four years before it was printed in Leatherneck).

As Leatherneck wrote of the poem's author in 2003: "Merry Christmas, My Friend" has been a holiday favorite among "leatherneckphiles" for nearly the time it takes to complete a Marine Corps career. Few, however, know who wrote it and when. Former Corporal James M. Schmidt, stationed at Marine Barracks, Washington, D.C., pounded it out 17 years ago on a typewriter while awaiting the commanding officer's Christmas holiday decorations inspection . . . while other leathernecks strung lights for the Barracks' annual Christmas decoration contest, Schmidt contributed his poem to his section."

Over the years the text of "Merry Christmas, My Friend" has been altered to change the Marine-specific wording into Army references (including the title: U.S. Marines do not refer to themselves as "soldiers") and to incorporate line-ending rhyme changes necessitated by those alterations.

We reproduce below Corporal Schmidt's version as printed in Leatherneck back in 1991:

Merry Christmas, My Friend

By James M. Schmidt, a Marine Lance Corporal stationed in Washington, D.C., in 1986

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

Reports are that after leaving the Corps, Corporal Schmidt earned a law degree and now serves as an attorney in Los Angeles and is director of operations for a security consulting firm.

   Thanks again, Jay Sweetie!

From - 12/04/11 - "Morning Musing: Too Many Projects":

Dear Friends,

The holidays are fast approaching. We have lots of things to do to get ready! I feel that the most important job we can do right this minute is get rid of the clutter to make room for the new items that are coming into your home.

This week we are in Zone 2: The kitchen. The kitchen is the heart of our home and when the kitchen is clean the whole house feels better. Before we know it Christmas will be here. Don't allow yourself to panic. We can help you get the rest of the house ready too, but you have to promise to not try to do too much at one time. We pride ourselves in being able to multi-task. We get so many projects going and we never finish them. Have you been living in the projects? You don't have to put yourself though this.

We came up with crisis cleaning to help us. This is a simple way to stay focused and not burn out while getting your main areas of your home ready for your guests. The most essential part of the Crisis Cleaning System is the 15 minutes that is required each hour to SIT DOWN AND REST! drink your water and plan! The hardest part of crisis cleaning is keeping it in good order until your guest arrive. NOW LISTEN VERY CLOSELY! I do not want you to wait till the day before your guests arrive to crisis clean. The secret to being a good hostess is to pace yourself and be well rested. DO YOU HEAR ME???

I will let you in on my light bulb moment. It happened in 1999! I had spent from January to November getting my baby step routines established. Our home was staying nice, but I still had hot spots and some clutter. At the first of November, I decided that we would host Thanksgiving Dinner for Robert's Family. He had never done it for his family. My family was going to be out of town. Since I had routines, I decided I could pull this off. I started to plan and scheme. I interviewed my Born Organized Clerk as to how she kept her home clean. She told me, "Marla, it is very simple! You just pick up after yourself!"

WOW! What a revelation! If I got something out, I should put it away when I finished. This was not rocket science. It was simple! I just had to practice it. So the first week in November, I cleaned my home very well, got rid of all the clutter and started to work on a plan for the holidays. After the house was in good shape, granted it wasn't like it used to be with clutter piled to the ceiling. Let's just say I spring-cleaned in the fall! LOL Now I don't have to do this, because of my zones. So after that first week of focusing on my home and getting that problem out of the way, I could relax and plan the party. With my Born Organized friend's advice, I could practice picking up after myself and putting things away. Also I could practice doing one thing at a time. Yes! You heard me right.

Many times we leave things half done and piled all over the house because of our sidetracked nature. We start one thing and get pulled away to start something else - leaving our projects everywhere. You could follow our day, just by going from one project to the next. During the next 3 weeks, I was able to catch myself doing just this and stop in mid-sidetrackedness and say! Marla! All you have to do is put this away before you start this other project. Much to my surprise: IT WORKED!!! Our home stayed clean and clutter free, because I was actually putting things away and finishing what I was working on. Even if I didn't finish, I was getting to a stopping point and putting it away neatly. This took a conscious effort on my part, but once I noticed what I had been doing, something just clicked with me. It can with you too!

So I have a homework assignment for you! This is one of my 11 Commandments.

# 6. Don't try to do two projects at once. ONE JOB AT A TIME. Don't pull out more than you can put back in 1 hour.

We are so bad about doing this to ourselves. Self-Sabotage is our greatest enemy. SHEs tend to think we can multi-task! This is why we find ourselves turning around in circles, not knowing what to do next or where to turn! This has got to stop. We can help you! Don't tell me you work better under pressure! This is a lie that we have told ourselves for years, because of our procrastination. We work better when we are well rested and our minds and function without running 90 miles per hour. I want you to take care of yourself.

Are you ready to FLY through the holidays?


From - 12/04/11 - "Testimonial: Pampering #3":

Hi Marla and Crew,

Many thanks for all you do.

I was just reading your morning musing about actions speaking louder than words. I have come to realize lately that when I do housework that is actually a way of both loving and pampering myself. (No, I haven't fallen on my head or gone nuts.)

*I* like the house tidy and smelling nice. *I* like the kitchen clean and neat. *I* like the bedrooms to be welcoming, the bathroom fresh. Over the last couple months when I have to clean the kitchen after a meal or whatever and feel resentful and want the good fairy to do the job for me and I start the, "Why am I the one who has to do this?" thinking, I realize that I'm really doing it for ME.

I am so much happier when I've done it.

My inner princess feels good when our home is nice and clean. She is all safe and happy and comfortable. What can be better than that?

It's okay to tell myself that it's for all of us, that I'm the one home all day, etc., but it doesn't always help much. Admitting it's for me feels good and makes me want to do just that little bit extra.

My personal value is no longer based on what I do or how I do it, I just like how it feels when things are nicer.

Thank you for the gift of loving myself enough to finally realize that I do show love to myself in many ways that I was unaware of before.

a UK Flybaby

Kelly here: Our habit this month is to focus on pampering yourself.

Sheila has reminded us that by creating a home that you feel good about is a way of pampering.

CROCHET PATTERNS: - Nancy Anderson's Little Penguin Ornament - Katherine Eng's Snowflake Ornament - Christmas Love Hearts - Linda Cyr's Tree Hearts - Sweet Heart Sachets

   Is it just me, or do some of these heart patterns from Red Heart Yarns appear to be the very same pattern?!?


From - 12/04/11:
A prisoner in jail receives a letter from his wife: "Dear Husband, I have decided to plant some lettuce in the back garden. When is the best time to plant them?"

The prisoner, knowing that the prison guards read all mail, replied in a letter: "Dear Wife, whatever you do, do not touch the back garden. That is where I hid all the money."

A week or so later, he received another letter from his wife: "Dear Husband, You wouldn't believe what happened, some men came with shovels to the house, and dug up all the back garden."

The prisoner wrote another letter back: "Dear Wife, now is the best time to plant the lettuce."


1. Thursday, December 1, 2011 - The NNHS Class of 1955 holds Lunch Bunch gatherings on the first Thursday of every month at Steve & John's Steak House on Jefferson Avenue just above Denbigh Boulevard in Newport News at 11:00 AM. The luncheon is not limited to just the Class of '55; if you have friends in that year, go visit with them.

2. Wednesday, December 14, 2011 - The NNHS Class of June 1942 meets at noon on the second Wednesday of every other month for a Dutch treat lunch at the James River Country Club, 1500 Country Club Road. PLEASE JOIN THEM. Give or take a few years makes no difference. Good conversation, food and atmosphere. For details, call Jennings Bryan at 803-7701 for reservations.

3. Thursday, January 5, 2012 - The NNHS Class of 1955 holds Lunch Bunch gatherings on the first Thursday of every month at Steve & John's Steak House on Jefferson Avenue just above Denbigh Boulevard in Newport News at 11:00 AM. The luncheon is not limited to just the Class of '55; if you have friends in that year, go visit with them.

4. Saturday, January 7, 2012 - 11:00 AM - The NNHS Breakfast Bunch will host a Breakfast Bunch Brunch at the Warwick Restaurant, 12306 Warwick Boulevard, (across from CNU) Newport News, Virginia 23606. "Please come join them for a Dutch Treat Brunch featuring a lot of 'War Stories' and maybe a lie or two. Everyone is welcome so bring your wife, husband, boy friend, girl friend, class mate, school friend or whomever you choose." Please RSVP to Bill Roady at or call him at 757-595-0716 so they have a head count.

PRAYER ROLL: - updated 10/22/11

BLOG: - updated 03/13/11

Please find a few minutes of your busy schedule to support

Thank you so much!

Carol Buckley Harty
7020 Lure Court
Fayetteville, NC 28311-9309


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The First Noel

The First Noel, the Angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep
On a cold winter's night that was so deep.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!

They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the East beyond them far
And to the earth it gave great light
And so it continued both day and night.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!

And by the light of that same star
Three Wise men came from country far
To seek for a King was their intent
And to follow the star wherever it went.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!

This star drew nigh to the northwest
O'er Bethlehem it took its rest
And there it did both Pause and stay
Right o'er the place where Jesus lay.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!

Then entered in those Wise men three
Full reverently upon their knee
And offered there in His presence
Their gold and myrrh and frankincense.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made Heaven and earth of naught
And with his blood mankind has bought.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!

"The First Noel" midi (Version 1) courtesy of - 12/05/11

"The First Noel" lyrics and history courtesy of - 12/04/05

Image of "Adoration of the Shepherds" (1622) by Gerrit van Honthorst (1590-1656) courtesy
of - 12/04/05

Image of "Adoration of the Shepherds" by Giorgione (c.1476/8 - 1510) courtesy
of - 12/04/05

Animated Christmas Star Divider Line clip art courtesy of - 12/04/05

Animated Tiny Birthday Cake clip art courtesy of
Sarah Puckett Kressaty ('65) of VA - 08/31/05
Thanks, Sarah Sugah!

Army Seal clip art courtesy of Al Farber ('64) of GA - 05/24/06 (still missing...)
Thanks, Al!
Replaced by Norm Covert ('61) of MD - 02/09/09
Thanks, Norm!

Hampton High School's Crab clip art courtesy of - 10/02/05
Replaced courtesy of - 02/17/09

Marine Corps Seal clip art courtesy of the late Herbert Hice of MI - one of my Famous Marines who served in the South Pacific during WWII.
Thanks again, Herbie!!

Air Force Seal clip art courtesy of - 07/07/06

Siuslaw High School's Viking Logo clip art courtesy of - 12/27/07

NNHS65 Home Page Banner created by my #5 Son, Nathaniel Harty (Hillsboro HS, IL - '97) of IL - 06/06/02
Thanks, Nathaniel!

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