I spent all day sewing masks. 2 in the garbage, because they were the easy-peasy square kind that you can run up in 10 minutes, if you're not me. One was too bulky. I added a middle layer of flannel, which Nick read was more effective than straight calico (And I believe him, because he does his reading). The next too small. The same simple rectangle, and yet...I probably could have got the third one juuuuust right. But ... I went on line and discovered an insanely complicated (for a mask) Japanese (of course) pattern. And made 6--three for Nick, three for me. Because Nick says (he's never stops) you need to wash after each use. I will confine myself more conscientiously now, so as not to have to do this chore.
Searching for suitable scraps to contribute to the effort, we found two pairs of old--clean. clean.--cotton boxers. They the memento drawer for least 15 years tucked in a drawer because of sentimental value--one was printed with skeletons, one with little green dinosaurs. Guess whose? And guess who now has skeleton and little green dinosaur masks? Sentimental myself, I dug up my Mae Jainschigg’s (my late and beloved mother-in-law—a woman of dramatic tastes) old shower curtain--a splendid purple with huge red and yellow Mughal flowers. Didn't want to be girly, but great weave for the purpose. And having run out of flannel (some cleaning rags were not pristine), Nick donated one of his lined lumberjack flannel shirts, so they're quite manly on the inside.
I would send a picture, but I'm not up to that yet. I hate sewing.