Started the day with baking, ended it with an episode of Queens of Mystery and a glass of wine. In between: intensive living-room vacuuming and dusting, moderate fretting, the making of nine kid-sized masks (three per kid, four layers apiece, which I hope will keep us virus-free until we can get our paws on some kid-sized N95s), dinner, yoga. This was supposed to have been a writing day, but things don’t always work out as planned, do they? Oh, the collection of Adrienne Rich essays I ordered arrived. When the kids were leaving to go to my mother’s, my youngest suggested that while they were all out I could “talk to Mo” (Giacomo, the cat) “about Emily Dickinson.” Which I obviously did.