Letters for Jude

What we'd talk about if she were here

Letter Three

Hey Mum,

I hope you don’t mind, but I gave out your mobile number this week. I was inspecting houses and I really hate giving out my number to those real estate agents. All a gal wants to do is look at one small, over-priced apartment without being harassed and texted about apartments completely out of the price range until the end of time!

So, when I turn up to look at a ‘cosy art deco’ (aka mouldy shoe box), I give your number! Let’s be honest, it’s not like you’re going to need it and I’m actually amazed that I remember it. Don’t ask me to remember bank details, or what time my appointment is, but your number – lodged in my brain forever!

Anyway, I just wanted to give you the heads up!


Letter Two

Hey Mum,

I’m having some people over for dinner and I really wanted to make those crispy chicken rice ball things you made up once. Remember that?

I actually don’t know why I’m asking, you never use recipes anyway! A habit I’ve since picked up, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to know. “Bit of this, bit of that, just make sure it always has colour”.

Well, anyway, they were delicious and from what I remember, you made them from leftovers in the fridge, like the surprise Chef used to do. In fact, you may have even done that ‘bit’ when making them – I wouldn’t put it past you!
Lettuce, rice, chicken and what else?

You know my friends still talk about your cooking? Dan still goes on about the ANZAC Day brekky fry up that I slept through, and Andy still remembers those incredible honey soy crispy noodles you used to make for our uni meetings.

Oh, and how can I forget your homemade wedges – the after school special. Yes! Your Baileys Ice-Cream, I’ll have you know I’ve won crowds with that a few times. Don’t worry, you always get credit, I promise.

Better go and get onto this cooking, wish me luck with the chicken balls. I’ll let you know how they turn out.


Letter One


It’s a Friday night and I’m sitting on the couch flicking through channels on the telle. Up pops ‘Walker, Texas Ranger’! Remember when we used to get up at midnight, on Wednesdays I think, make cheese on toast and watch Chuck Norris at his finest?!

That reminds me, was it a Texas Ranger night when we left the grill on too long and burnt the kitchen down? I think that was the Shaftesbury Ave house, but there’s been so many, who could bloody remember!

Anyway, it made me smile, so I thought I’d send you a note. Gotta go, missing Chuck’s moves!

Love you.