Headcanon meme: Martin Crieff put himself through a lot of memory exercises when he was working his way up to memorizing the flight manual. He occasionally surprises the people close to him with the things he knows by heart.

bendingsignpost:

This comes in handy a lot. Martin doesn’t get to eat out a lot, but he does get to stare at menus posted in windows and want. Sometimes, a client will attempt small talk with the awkward pilot before take-off or after landing, and the one thing Douglas can successfully steer Martin to turns out to be restaurant recommendations, entirely based on the menus. 

Babies are fussy. Toddlers are fussy. Any child with extreme and confusing pain in their ears is fussy, and there comes a day when no amount of parental soothing can lessen the wailing in the cabin. Carolyn is at her wits end, the day having already been rough, and all of Arthur’s cheerful attempts only seem to make it worse. Sentenced to go make tea (and stay out of the way), Arthur hands Martin a tea and explains that the child’s bedtime book was left at home. 

Douglas handles the rest of the flight solo as Martin recites Winnie-the-Pooh by heart–and even describes the pictures. 

Martin always feels awful when he can’t get anyone even the smallest birthday present. He’s too busy being wrapped up in that to notice the looks of surprise that he’s remembered. 

(In the case of Carl, Martin can be excused that oversight due to never communicating face-to-face with the man in the tower.)

“Oh, come now, Martin,“ his mother half-begs. “Your brother never makes fun of you. I can’t think of a single instance, can you?“

After a long pause, looking at his mother’s tired face, Martin closes his eyes and swallows. “Yes,” he says, voice tight. “I suppose you’re right.”

Mind me while I gripe about injuries and diminishing efficiency

So, the writing (well, everything, but writing is what I’m going to gripe about at the moment) is suddenly much more difficult, because I’ve effectively got the use of one arm.  That ‘thing I did to my arm’ last week ended up being tendonitis (and how I got tendonitis on VACATION while doing less with my hands than normal, including barely touching my laptop [unheard of in its own right] I’ll never know…) and am now wearing a brace, having been told not to take it off, and not to use that hand/arm if at all possible.  Typing one handed never gets any easier, but at least it’s not my dominant hand this time.  (Although I may have spoken too soon, because the ongoing problems in my other wrist are acting up now that its workload has doubled; joy!)  (I’m not even going to think about the other problems right nwo.)

…and I get to wake up in another 2.5 hours to take my next anti-inflammatory pill.  *sigh*  Someone cheer me up, yeah?  I could use a distraction.