(no subject)

[kittydesade]

Genitive case review before hitting up prepositions. Masculine!
Absent any other markers, the word order indicates X of Y.
lár an tseomra, the middle of the room
cupán an tae, the cup of tea
cúpla branda, a couple of brandies


Adding 'a' to a masculine noun.
gloine fíona, glass of wine
mórán ama, a lot of time
bun an halla, the end of the hall
bun an ama, the end of time?
mórán fíona, a lot of wine
buidéal fíona, a bottle of wine
mórán cíosa, a lot of rent (which is what we're going to be paying for ac ouple months, ugh.)

A broad consonant in a masculine noun becomes slender.
pointe eolais, a point of information
pionta pórtair, a pint of stout
muintir Sheáin, Sean's parents
barr an bhóthair (bóthar), the top of the road
bun an bhóthair (bóthar), the end of the road
bun an phórtair, the end of the stout? aka a crisis in the pub.
buidéal an phórtair, the bottle of stout
buidéal pórtair, a bottle of stout
bun an dinnéir, the end of dinner
cúpla buidéil, a couple of bottles

Replace 'ach' with 'igh' in masculine nouns.
bun an leathanaigh (leathanach), the bottom of the page

I need more words and more genitive forms or something.


Still so-so-so pissed about the boiler thing. On the other other hand, I'm going to call up the inspector today and see if it's reasonable to do a two-part inspection or if I should just tell him, no, sorry, I'll try this again when the bank gets their head out of their ass. On the plus side... I may have mentioned this before but last night's frothing rage was considerable. On the plus side, they're getting in bids for the work now which indicates to me that they plan to replace the boiler. Which is good because while I can accept and cope with the cost of repairing the leak in the bathroom ceiling, I do not want to have to fucking replace the goddamn boiler because they didn't fucking check the heat beforehand like they said they were going to. Or possibly like the listing agent said they were going to, which makes me want to smack him for not being sure of his facts.

Deep breaths. Calming down, forming a battle plan. Our Realty Lady asked last night and we discussed it a bit, whether or not we want to look at other houses. The problem is we are never going to find anything so awesome as this house; quite aside from the historical value for the size of the house and the price we're paying it is a steal. The other option, though, is getting a renovation loan for New and Busted, which might not be a bad plan either. Same-ish square footage, more recent construction, different kind of work needed entirely. I don't know. But Bri doesn't think we need to, and while I don't want to... I also don't think this is going to be something that's going to prevent us from getting the house. It's just fucking annoying. If the inspection turns up something completely new, that might prevent us from getting the house. But we won't know until they let me get the inspector in the fucking house to begin with.

I said I was going to stop abusing italics. I lied.

I'm so tired of house shit sapping my energy. At least I've done most of the things I need to do today regarding that. I just need to call the inspector and scan in the letter of explanation as to why I suddenly had a chunk of money deposited into my account. "Family members gave me monies for house" should be common enough that I don't think I need to go into much detail, but I ended up being uberformal anyway.

If I'm very very lucky, today will go well, I will have cope not to chew everyone's heads off, and I will get some writing and writing-related things done as well as all my languages. If today goes somewhere around the state of the last couple days, between the randomass credit card and the randomass boiler cock-up, I may declare the rest of the week Horsies Forever. There is only so much shit I can cope with at once, and writing vs house shit seems to be it. Maybe Horsies forever will become knitting and Arabic writing forever, though, because calligraphy is actually kind of fun.