The hills are alive

There was no lazy Sunday for me this weekend, no sir. Sure, it was a free(ish) day, but that didn't stop me from going on a hike. And not just any hike; I'm talking 5 hours, 12 miles, 2,000 feet up (to a total of 12,000) and back down. Apparently, I am not yet acclimated to the altitude. How else to explain the ridiculous wheezing that started up almost the minute the hike began and continued until we reached the top of the mountain, where, I would like to add, it was SNOWING. Thank goodness there was a little Hikers Hut up there. We huddled inside eating Turkish Delight while the wind died down, and then we went back down the mountain, which was SO MUCH BETTER than going up.

And then I got home and tried to take a nap, with no success. Which was really a shame, considering that tech rehearsal started at 9pm, and dinner was served at midnight, and I didn't get into my bed until 3am, and then was back at work at 9am. I'm telling you this, not so that you will feel sorry for me or anything, but as explanation of why I'm going to stop writing now, post a few hike pictures, and then wish you all good night. It's 9 o'clock, and I'm fading fast.

This week I'm excited to debut a new Bossy Feature called Home on the Road, in which I interview singers and other nomadic opera types about traveling and being away from home. Tomorrow will be the inaugural installment, so be sure to check it out if you're interested in the "glamorous" life of an opera professional.

In the meantime, here's some pretty...