It was the last half hour of the last day of ski season. Typical. The gravel had broken though it's winter confines and was now the prominent feature in the parking lot. I was in the ski lodge sketching and looking forward to packing up and leaving. Twenty more minutes to go and we were out of there! Then the news came.

Two of four came excitedly into the lodge. "Mom!!!!!!! One of Four fell on the last run and the ski patrol are taking her off of the hill in the toboggan. Oh ya....and Daddy said a swear word!"

After an entire season of three of the four of our kids skiing in the racing program, One of Four falls going at a snails pace down a small part of the hill to go and find her racing results. Apparently bindings don't release really well when you're going that slow when they hit a patch on the hill where there is actually still some snow.

Two days, one surgery and about 6 ice cream bars later, we are home. Full cast from the upper thigh to the ankle is what you get when you rip a chunk of tibia bone away from your knee cap. Ligaments are stronger than bone when you are 11. I'm told this is a good thing since bone heals better than ligaments.

Funny thing is, she seems to have enjoyed much of the process (although not all). The ambulance ride with the silly singing paramedics was a ride of a life time. Getting to order your food in the same manner you would through room service in a five star hotel, and getting to choose pogos, fries, ice-cream, pizza from the menu was unlike anything she has been allowed at home! Your own personal t.v. in bed, people running to your every beck and call at just the push of a button and ....ah yes! Morphine! Hooked up to a self administration pump. Finally...."crotches" as she frequently called them. Once we explained the difference between what a crotch was and a crutch, she finally got it right. Unfortunately her French Canadian physiotherapist couldn't. They were crotches to her as well.