You can’t even hardly see it now, but it kept me from being Miss America: A one-inch scar on my right knee.
Back in 1967, my little brother Bucky and I were horsing around on Granddaddy’s burn chimney-pit-rock-pile, and I slipped and fell and cut open my right knee real good. I was pretty sure it needed stitches (it didn’t), and I insisted that I shouldn’t go to my piano lesson (I did).
But the gash was ugly. So ugly, that I sniffled, “Now I can’t be Miss America.” Because I was no longer perfect.
Every year, when I watch the Miss America pageant, I smile and silently thank Bucky for his sweet words: “Well, I’d vote for you.”
About Ginny O'Donnell
After reading a really nice obituary a few years ago, I considered what they'll write about me. "She worked all day, then went home and made supper." Except now, my husband has retired, so he makes the supper. Hm. I sound kinda lazy, but I'm always busy. You'll see.
Part 2: I like my original About Me, so I'm keeping it intact. But now I, too, am footloose. Let's see what happens next, shall we?
Part 3: Just to keep everything in perspective, I'm keeping parts 1 and 2 intact. Now, I am actively and happily NOT so footloose, doing my thing over at Cottage Door Press. And with it being off its training wheels, I will pick up my ginnygram pen again. Love!
ginnygram 
How sweet. What a great brother :)
I’d vote for you too;)
I remember! Warms my heart….
I’d vote for you also…..