Charging with misunderstanding into a feast of conversation

Bessy woke this morning, picked up Margaret's red coat and waved it menacingly at the ironing board. The board charged and Bessy ran out of the house. Margaret jumped on the board and brought it under control, and we all sat down to a breakfast of eggs and toast. I like it when weeks start like this.

Felix was ready with my tea when I arrived at his bench this morning. He had been to see a dancer on a bench overlooking the same bit of coast, but in a different era, and had returned early on account of the dancer's lack of conversation. I asked if the era was one past or future. Felix said that was irrelevant as there would always be something one could discuss if so inclined. I asked if we could discuss the effect of an era on conversation. Felix didn't comment.

George once sailed to Barcelona dressed as a sleepy fellow of inordinate intelligence, to dispute with a man there the origin of the Feast of Misunderstanding about the Concept of Unanimity. I mention this because this morning George and my first patient told me that if I applied myself in life I might actually turn out to more than a mere conception of a grave misunderstanding. I have to say that I was at a loss to know what to make of this. With brave face I asked the patient to come into the surgery for his examination and buried my anxiety.

It turns out that the patient - a Mr Adrian Buginmybedwithscurvy - is excellent at painting white walls white whilst alluding to the inherent diversity in colour that might have been. As I examined his teeth I asked if he'd ever had anything charge at one of his white walls, perhaps alluding to a perception that it might have been red, if only it wasn't white. Cookie said that within walls there were spirits with all sorts of emotions, including envy. Mr Buginmybedwithscury was lost. As was I.

So it is when the week begins with a feast for breakfast: one ends up conversing about misunderstandings and concepts of misunderstandings that blow one's mind away. Sometimes, though, I just don't understand what's happening, which is something I've yet to grow comfortable with.