Every new year's day, give or take, I catch up on my blogs (this one, and Jonsey Cycles for Cancer). Then I hand the computer keyboard over to the dog, so she can write up her new year's note. So get ready - because here we go again! If this is your first time reading one of my new year's posts, let me say welcome!

Look what my producer and his friend got me! That pretty much sums things up. Now, I'm not going to rehash the last two posts. If you've been following along, you'll know what a tough year 2025 has been. But I've finally made my peace with that, and now I realize what 2026 needs to look like. It's very different that the way I started this riding journey, but I'm ok with that.

If you read my last post, you'll know things have been tough lately. Let me be honest here - the shitshow that's been trying to drag me under is still going full bore. In between the frustrations, though, I'm finding small joys. One joy is coming from the ballet. The Syracuse City Ballet has moved in next door to the radio station, and I'm popping over on my lunch break most days to get a daily dose of peace, watching the creative process in rehearsal.

I’ve got a couple of things I want to touch on today. Some of the eagle-eyed readers might notice that a slew of very old posts that have suddenly cropped up on this page. Posts that seemingly have nothing to do with the rest of the goals of Jonsey Cycles for Cancer. And you’re right. Sort of. More than a decade ago, I started a blog I called “Farm Fresh Fare.” We had recently moved into this amazing place in the midst of farm country, and were getting the most amazing food from area growers.

I've been circling around this blog post for a while. Because it's been rough lately. Not just rough. Rough. With a capital "R". And a capital "O". And a "U". Hell, it's just been ROUGH. I have a completely different post sitting in my drafts. A post where I'm doing a lot of dancing around the multitude of reasons things are…

Sitting on a porch swing high in the Appalachia mountains, the evening sounds ebb and flow over the listener. This is a work that changes with every performance. This performance is by the University