We're moving house...!

Me, juffles, ascetic_hedony, a lot of computers, some sporting implements, more books than you can shake a stick at and two adorable woofers in one house. What a brilliant idea.

From Fremantle to South Perth midday Saturday 8th October.

This is going to involve a lot of putting of things in boxes and moving of said boxes and moving of furniture. Anyone, ANYONE who is able to help would be much loved, appreciated, cuddled, offered tea, hot chocolate and possibly even food.

OMGwegotthehousethisissocoolwehavesomuchcraptopack

Cotillion and The Black Moth by Georgette Heyer

Miss Charing, who shared with her governess a taste for romantic fiction, toyed with the idea of remaining (a statue of persecuted virtue) by the door, but succumbed to the lure of a fire. Seating herself on the settle beside it, she untied the strings of her cloak, pushed back the hood from her ruffled curls, and stretched benumbed hands to the blaze.

[flaps]

"That is not all," he forced himself to say. "There is worse."
"Is there?" she asked wide-eyed. "What else have you done, Mr. Carr?"
"I–once—" heavens, how hard it was to say! "I once . . . cheated . . . at cards." It was out. Now she would turn from him in disgust. He shut his eyes in anticipation of her scorn, his head turned away.
"Only once?" came the soft voice, filled with awed admiration.
His eyes flew open.
"Mademoiselle!—"
She drooped her head mournfully.
"I'm afraid I always cheat," she confessed. "I had no idea 'twas so wicked, although Auntie gets very cross and vows she will not play with me."