My Mother’s Hip and Me

I am now in the midst of the middle-aged daughter’s rite of passage: My mother fell Friday morning and had hip replacement surgery yesterday. I’ve got no siblings, so it’s all me. Which means it’s probably less of you. I do, however, have BlogBacks coming up later, disagreeing with my take on the Met’s rehang of its 19th- and early 20th-century European paintings and sculpture collection. Let the debate continue.
Happily, after a successful (so far) surgery yesterday afternoon, I still had time to keep my appointment last night here:

Lincoln Center, home of the NY Philharmonic
Normal, culture-filled life seems all the sweeter in times of trouble. Now, back to the hospital.