In much the same vein as 'how much wood could a wood-cutter cut' etc, I do wonder 'how much tea can a tea-drinker drink when a tea-drinker works from home?'
These days it's Twinings Everyday Tea which I buy in boxes of 240 tea bags. It's a wonderful tea for a home-worker: full of colour and flavour, and something to look forward to on a very regular basis. I don't know how the Bloomsbury group (and that whole segment of society) managed to wait until set times to have a cup of tea - I couldn't bear to depend on someone else for my tea. It's the same with Mrs Miniver; I was quite amazed that on Christmas Day the family wakes up early and has to wait for the tea in bed to be brought to them. Make it yourself, I found myself saying. (But I also know that a lady's kitchen was often not her own.) This is why I like Dorothy Whipple's books so much - they have characters who go downstairs and put the kettle on themselves, like Jane in High Wages.
No wonder I included tea cosies in my knitting book. I got so fed up with patterns that said a cosy would fit 'an average tea pot' without giving the dimensions of an 'average tea pot', that I knitted five cosies for five different sizes of tea pot (XL, L, M, S, XS) and gave the dimensions. The smallest pot would make a very teeny tiny cup of tea more suited to a teddy bears' picnic, but the larger sizes cater for thirsty tea drinkers.
I took photos of my family of tea cosies on the photoshoot. The top one shows a little more of how it looked behind the scenes with all the flowers we used and a cat curled up on the settee. If I worked from this home, I think I would have all my pots and cosies out everyday so I could see them on my regular route to the kettle.
And the answer to 'how much tea can a tea-drinker drink'? I daren't say, in case either Simon or my dentist is reading.