Pi and Tea, and Our Dog's Tea Bag Collection

Our puppy Nora has a tea bag collection. She keeps it under the conifer tree at the bottom of our garden. Every day she pushes her long doggy nose between the wooden slats of the compost bin, in search of new treasure to add to her pile.

One day Nora decided to sample more than tea bags. A few hours later she wished she’d hadn’t. I did too.

“We can’t have the dog gulping down everything we put into the compost bin,” I said. “She’s making herself sick.”

So my hero husband Andy drove to the hardware store where he bought some top quality aviary wire.

“I’ll hammer it all the way around the bin,” said Andy. “That will stop Nora stealing our compost. ” He grinned.

But his grin disappeared when a hole appeared. All it took was a few snaps of her wire-cutter teeth, and Nora was able to resume fishing for tea bags.

We’ve given up. Nora hasn’t. Her tea bag collection continues to grow.

I have a collection too. Not tea bags but Pi. Would you like to see my collection?

I have a basic everyday Pi…

… and a beautiful Pi.

How about a real meat Pi? (This is our favourite Pi.)

I’ve collected the director’s slice of Pi…

… and a mile of Pi (for very hungry people)…

I have the making of Pi…

… as well as the musical version.

Just like Nora’s tea bag collection, my Pi collection isn’t finished. I have my eye on more Pi. What shall I add next?

I like Pi. My daughters Sophie and Gemma-Rose like Pi too. Do you?

All this talk of Pi is making my stomach rumble. I rather fancy a slice of pie. And a cup of tea. Pi(e) and tea. Doesn’t that sound good? Our dog thinks so. She’s grinning. Soon there’ll be one more tea bag in Nora’s collection.