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The preposition ar (on)
Most states of mind and physical sensations must be expressed as nouns followed by the preposition ar (on) (pron. er) so that Seán is tired must be turned around as Tá tuirse ar Sheán. (Lit. Tiredness is on Sean.) Note that ar (on) causes lenition, so Seán becomes Sheán. The forms of ar (on) are:

orm - on me
ort - on you
air - on him
uirthi - on her
orainn - on us
oraibh - on you
orthu - on them

Tá fuacht orm - I feel cold.
Tá ocras orm - I am hungry.
Tá tart orm - I am thirsty.
An bhfuil tuirse ort? - Are you tired?
An bhfuil eagla ort? - Are you afraid?
Tá brón orm - I am sorry.
Tá áthas orm - I am delighted/happy.

Tá brón orm (I am sorry) can be used to apologise or sympathise over something. This construction is also used for physical ailments.

Tá slaghdán orm. I have a cold.
Tá tinneas cinn orm. I have a headache. (ache of head)
Tá tinneas fiacaile orm. I have a toothache. (ache of tooth)

However, certain physical and mental states are expressed using adjectives:
Tá Úna go maith arís. Úna is well again.
Tá sé tinn. He is sick. (Tinn? Tinneas?)
Bhí mé buartha. I was worried.
Tá mé cinnte. I am sure.


Why yes, I'm still on my Guerrero and/or Human Target kick. And still on my Sam Neill and/or Alcatraz kick, and sad to see there are only three stories on AO3. What gives, people? All of them Hauser/Lucy, which amuses the crap outta me. Of course everyone ships the lady doctor and the grumpy old bastard. It's like Gibbs and, well, almost any female to cross the show.

Still waiting for the freaking carpet people. Which means I'm not at work, and we're already short staffed. On the other hand I suppose if I have to be out, Aunt's there instead of me to answer phones. It's still going to be a chaotic, rushed day.

Not much else to report on the house, we're still playing Whisper Down the Lane about getting the freaking home dewinterized and the utilities turned on so we can get the inspector in. Still so cranky about this whole thing. And not nearly as hopeful as I used to be. And kind of somewhere between cranky and sad because it was the most awesome house, historical value aside. Lots of space, good architecture for our purposes, for at least a decent price. And, you know, if it's just the boiler and the leak it still could be, but at this rate I wonder what the hell else is going to go wrong. Sigh.

I suppose I might as well get dressed and get dishes done while I wait for someone to show up. Ideally I'd just take the day off work, hang out, rest, get writing done, but with people out that's less of an option. Blargh. No, I think mostly I'm just irritable about the house. Need more data. Also irritated because the boy insists on starting to pack stuff up, which I'd be a lot happier about if I knew we were actually going to move in a couple of months. But with all this bullshit getting in the way of my inspection, I'm not so sure.

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