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Well, we had a little drama around Orgle Manor on Friday afternoon: The eldest Llama-ette, slipping and falling on the sports court at St. Marie of the Blessed Educational Method, managed to fracture her wrist and had to be whisked off to the emergency room.

"But, Tom," regular readers are no doubt saying to yourselves, "Didn't she do that already a few months ago?"

No, that was her next youngest sister. Who of course became the latest expert on such medical matters when the eldest came home encasted. I've broken up many squabbles among the Llama-ettes, but this is the first time I've ever had to stop a spat over comparative wrist injuries.

The eldest is off to the orthopedist today to have a closer look taken at her wrist. Apparently, the fracture is quite small, but the E.R. folks thought it wise to put a cast on it to keep it from getting aggrivated by another shock.

I had expected the gel to play the martyr. However, after it was explained to her that her cast would certainly prevent her from going to diving practice for a couple weeks and would probably keep her out of the pool altogether for a while, she suddenly displayed the fortitude of that Roman who held his own hand in the fire in front of Lars Porsena just to show him a thing or two. In fact, she was downright indignant in her insistence this morning that nothing is wrong and that she doesn't need a cast anymore.

UPDATE: Good news. The doc was able to fit out the gel with a waterproof cast. Not only that, but she made it to diving practice this afternoon and was able to tough it out.