Judy Baxter

Judy Baxter Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Judy Baxter, Digital creator, Tribeca, NY.

They refused to pay a dime. I even offered to let her work it off with chores. She laughed in my face:Cousin: "I'm not y...
09/14/2025

They refused to pay a dime. I even offered to let her work it off with chores. She laughed in my face:
Cousin: "I'm not your maid."
So, I had no other choice. ⬇️

Most people get this wrong and toss out the can. The right way to read 'Best By' or 'Best Before' dates..Full article 👇 ...
09/14/2025

Most people get this wrong and toss out the can. The right way to read 'Best By' or 'Best Before' dates..
Full article 👇 💬

I've Been To Cracker Barrel 100's of Times, But Never Knew This… See more
09/14/2025

I've Been To Cracker Barrel 100's of Times, But Never Knew This… See more

These are the first symptoms that are cre... See more
09/14/2025

These are the first symptoms that are cre... See more

Didn't know about this.Full article 👇 💬
09/14/2025

Didn't know about this.
Full article 👇 💬

I went into the garage just to grab an old toolbox. Usually, it’s my husband who goes in there — he keeps it organized a...
09/14/2025

I went into the garage just to grab an old toolbox. Usually, it’s my husband who goes in there — he keeps it organized and knows where everything is. But me… I almost never go in. Still, that morning, for some reason, I felt like going inside. The light in the garage was dim, the lamp was flickering — it should’ve been replaced long ago. I walked along the wall and suddenly stopped. In the far corner, where the old cabinet with paint and random junk always stood, I noticed… something. At first, I couldn’t tell what it was. It looked like it was covered in a thick layer of dust, but something inside that “thing” moved. I came closer. And in that moment, I felt a chill, like the temperature had suddenly dropped. I was absolutely terrified when I realized what it was 😱😱 More in the first comment 👇👇

At 62, I found a boyfriend. His name was Peter, and like me, he was single. From our very first date, we hit it off inst...
09/14/2025

At 62, I found a boyfriend. His name was Peter, and like me, he was single. From our very first date, we hit it off instantly. He was so confident and gallant—almost too good to be true! I couldn't believe someone like him had come into my life. Before long, we started dating, and everything felt like a whirlwind of happiness. I even invited him to spend Thanksgiving with my family.
That day, while I was in the kitchen cooking, he hummed my favorite songs, glancing over occasionally with that charming smile of his. My heart swelled. I thought to myself, this is it. This is going to be the best day.
But then, out of nowhere, he disappeared. One moment he was there, and the next, he was gone. I tried not to panic, but a sense of unease crept in as I searched the house for him. When I finally found him, I froze.
He was whispering to my daughter-in-law, their heads close together. At first, I told myself it was nothing—maybe just a friendly chat. But as I leaned in to listen, the truth hit me like a punch to the gut. I stood there, feeling like a complete fool, the reality of it sinking in.👇

I CAUGHT MY DAD WITH A YOUNG LADY ON THE BEACH WHILE HE WAS "ON A BUSINESS TRIP" – I SENT A PICTURE TO MY MOM, BUT HER R...
09/14/2025

I CAUGHT MY DAD WITH A YOUNG LADY ON THE BEACH WHILE HE WAS "ON A BUSINESS TRIP" – I SENT A PICTURE TO MY MOM, BUT HER REPLY SHOCKED ME
My friend and I just got to the beach when I spotted a familiar face — my dad. At first, I thought he was there with my mom, but nope. Next to him was a girl way younger than me!
I called my mom and casually asked where Dad was, and she said, "He's on a business trip in New York, sweetie."
I hung up the phone and immediately sent my mom a pic of my dad with that girl.
A few minutes later, my mom called me back, and what she told me left me speechless. It turned out that she knew that young woman, and moreover, she was not my dad's mistress.
THE TRUTH SHE REVEALED IS IN THE COMMENTS BELOW👇

Around this time, his own father TURNED HIM IN. 😳 All the information is below. ⬇️
09/14/2025

Around this time, his own father TURNED HIM IN. 😳 All the information is below. ⬇️

I'm 35 and married to my second husband, James. I have a nine-year-old daughter, Sophie, who means everything to me.She'...
09/14/2025

I'm 35 and married to my second husband, James. I have a nine-year-old daughter, Sophie, who means everything to me.
She's the kind of little girl who puts "Mom, I love you" notes in my purse and shares her last cookie just to see me smile.
When I married James, I was afraid of how Sophie would take to him. But from day one, he treated her like family. He read her bedtime stories, encouraged her when she learned to ride a bike, and always made time for her.
Sophie's ninth birthday was approaching, and I wanted it to be unforgettable. She wanted balloons, pink ribbons, and, most importantly, a beautiful cake.
So I decided to bake it myself.
Three tiers, strawberry jam between the layers, whipped chocolate cream, and delicate pink frosting. When Sophie peeked into the kitchen and whispered, "Mom, is this really for me?" I almost burst into tears.
The next morning, the house was filled with laughter. James was putting up the lights, Sophie was twirling around in her holiday dress, and I was darting between the children, making sure everything was perfect.
Then Sophie went to the kitchen to get the lemonade. A moment later, her SCREAM tore through the air.
I ran inside, terrified. The cake box was wide open. The frosting was smeared, the sponge cake torn apart. Someone had DELIBERATELY DESTROYED my perfect cake!
Sophie was sobbing, "Mom, WHO did this??"
I turned to the GUESTS, my heart pounding.
And there SHE was, sitting smugly in the corner, her eyes shining with pleasure.
At that moment, I knew EXACTLY WHO WAS TO BLAME. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Poor older lady didn't let anyone into her home for 26 years — I finally learned why when an ambulance took her away.___...
09/14/2025

Poor older lady didn't let anyone into her home for 26 years — I finally learned why when an ambulance took her away.
__________________________________________
I'm 38F, married with two kids, living in a quiet Midwestern town. After almost a decade here, I thought I knew my neighbors. Turns out, you never really do.
When we moved in, everyone was welcoming — except the woman in the weather-beaten Victorian at the end. Mrs. Halloway. No one knew her first name. She never waved, never smiled.
Just shuffled to the mailbox in threadbare slippers, gray hair in a topknot, eyes glued to the ground.
People whispered: her husband, gone; her only child, dead. She lived alone. No visitors. No one had ever been inside that house.
But at night, when I walked the dog, I'd hear the faint sound of the piano drifting from her windows. Haunting. Achingly sad. A TOO FAMILIAR melody that tugged at my memory. I SWEAR, I'd heard it long ago!
And always — the shadow of a cat on her sill, still as a statue.
Two months ago, just after midnight, flashing red and blue lights splashed across my walls. I peeked out and froze. An ambulance. In front of Mrs. Halloway's house.
I ran outside barefoot. Instinct, I guess. The EMTs were wheeling her out, frail and gasping. As they passed, her hand shot out and clamped around my wrist.
"Please…" she rasped. "My cat. Don't let her starve."
And just like that, the door to her house — the one nobody ever crossed in 26 years— was wide open. I stepped inside and exclaimed, "Oh my God!" ⬇️⬇️⬇️

SHE MISSED ONE DAY OF SCHOOL—THEN SEVENTY BIKERS SHOWED UP OUTSIDE HER HOUSEThe first time they rumbled up, I thought it...
09/14/2025

SHE MISSED ONE DAY OF SCHOOL—THEN SEVENTY BIKERS SHOWED UP OUTSIDE HER HOUSE
The first time they rumbled up, I thought it was a funeral procession. Seventy leather vests. Chrome glinting like knives. And in the middle of it, my seven-year-old niece, bright pink backpack strapped on, waving like a parade queen from the back of a Harley.
I ran outside in my slippers, heart in my throat. “Where is she going?” I yelled.
“School,” one of the bikers said, like it was obvious.
Here’s what I didn’t know: the day before, some older boys had cornered her behind the dumpsters at recess. They called her “Trash Barbie” and yanked her hair. My niece didn’t tell anyone. Not her teacher. Not her dad (my brother, who’s been barely hanging on since his wife died last year). But she *did* tell Frank.
Frank’s her neighbor. Retired Army. Runs a bike repair shop out of his garage and lets her sit on the seat while he works. She told him in a whisper: “I don’t wanna go back.”
He asked why. She whispered again.
And I guess Frank made some calls.
The next morning, every single member of his riding group showed up. Full gear. Flags flying. Engines low and steady like a warning growl. My niece walked down the porch steps like a celebrity under es**rt.
That was Monday. It’s now Friday. They’ve been back *every* morning since.
But today, someone was waiting by the school gate. Not a biker. Not a teacher. Just a woman with a clipboard and a sour smile. Watching. Writing something down.
She stepped toward Frank’s bike and said⬇️

Address

Tribeca, NY

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Judy Baxter posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Business

Send a message to Judy Baxter:

Shortcuts

Share

Category