In tribute to the confused little pig holding his fork and looking sadly up at the Pi symbol on my Sandra Boynton’s calendar, today’s slice is not an orange but  pie. Because around my house any excuse will do for baking a homemade pie.   I come from a long line of pie bakers. My grandmother’s wedding present to us in 1974 was a copy of Farm Journal’s Complete Pie Cookbook ©1965. I specify the date because I ordered another copy about 15 years ago for a wedding gift, and what I received was an updated, “modern” pie cookbook filled with recipes calling for all manner of time savers, including pudding mixes and frozen crusts. A travesty. Only scratch-made pie crusts hold my pies,…