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Maxx Musings: Reflections, Riddles & the Real Stuff

Welcome to Maxx Musings, a cozy nook where real life is filtered through strong coffee, sharper wit, and the kind of perspective you only earn after fifty (give or take a few hard lessons and hair color touch-ups).

This isn’t just about Whiskey Pines, though my little hometown does serve up enough gossip, baked goods, and buried secrets to keep things interesting. Maxx Musings is where I write about everything that doesn’t fit neatly between chapters in my books: thoughts on aging gracefully (or stubbornly), the art of telling someone off with a smile, strange things overheard at the bakery, and the deep emotional terrain of learning to love life on your own terms.

You’ll find stories about the people who make small towns maddening and magical, puzzles to keep your brain humming, digital goodies I’ve designed just for you, and the kind of reflections that sneak up on you while folding laundry or staring at lake water. Some days I’ll share memories, others I might just rant about why fitted sheets are an abomination. It’s all fair game here.

If you’re a woman who’s been around the block, circled the cul-de-sac, bought the T-shirt, and now prefers pajama pants with pockets, you’re in the right place. This blog is part journal, part newspaper column, part clubhouse for curious minds and unapologetic hearts.

So kick off your shoes, download a brain teaser or two, and make yourself at home.

Maxx Musings is open. And I always leave the light on.

— Roxie Maxx

Bakery

From Smuggling to Sugar Cookies: The Hidden History of Whiskey Pines

Whiskey Pines wears its charm like an embroidered cardigan; quaint, cozy, and just a little too perfect. But like most

Downtown Whiskey Pines

Notes from a Not-So-Quiet Town: Meet the Locals

Whiskey Pines is the kind of place that looks quiet from the outside. You see the flower boxes, the wraparound

Maxx Manor

The Ghosts of Maxx Manor

There are houses, and then there are places that seem to breathe. Maxx Manor, thank you very much—is the latter.

Whiskey Pines Lake Michigan Legends

Lake Legends and Whispered Warnings: Tales from the Docks

There’s something about lakeshore towns. Maybe it’s the fog that rolls in without warning or the way sound carries over

Kenzie: The Beer-Loving Bichon with a Sixth Sense

I didn’t expect to find a sidekick when I came back to Whiskey Pines. Especially not one under ten pounds

Roxie working at the Journal

Confessions of a Newspaperman’s Daughter

When your father runs the local paper, you learn early that nothing stays quiet in a small town. Secrets spread

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Bakery

From Smuggling to Sugar Cookies: The Hidden History of Whiskey Pines

Whiskey Pines wears its charm like an embroidered cardigan; quaint, cozy, and just a little too perfect. But like most

Downtown Whiskey Pines

Notes from a Not-So-Quiet Town: Meet the Locals

Whiskey Pines is the kind of place that looks quiet from the outside. You see the flower boxes, the wraparound

Maxx Manor

The Ghosts of Maxx Manor

There are houses, and then there are places that seem to breathe. Maxx Manor, thank you very much—is the latter.

Whiskey Pines Lake Michigan Legends

Lake Legends and Whispered Warnings: Tales from the Docks

There’s something about lakeshore towns. Maybe it’s the fog that rolls in without warning or the way sound carries over

Kenzie: The Beer-Loving Bichon with a Sixth Sense

I didn’t expect to find a sidekick when I came back to Whiskey Pines. Especially not one under ten pounds

Roxie working at the Journal

Confessions of a Newspaperman’s Daughter

When your father runs the local paper, you learn early that nothing stays quiet in a small town. Secrets spread

Coffee, Crime, and Crumbs: My Morning Routine in Whiskey Pines

People always ask what a typical day looks like for me, and the truth is, there isn’t one. Not since

The Real Story Behind the Steeplepuss Gang

Let’s clear something up right now: no one in Whiskey Pines says “Steeplepuss” with a straight face. And if you

Secrets Beneath the Floorboards: What I Found in My Grandma Roxanne’s Basement

You ever walk into a room and feel like the walls are watching you? Not in a creepy, haunted-house kind

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