Daughter and I have a relationship. It’s funny, a surprise, a revelation. We spend a lot of time together, we feed each other’s “things,” or “specialty areas,” or whatever vaguely condescending name you want to splash onto that slap of curiosity that drags us out of bed and down the street to the library to go further down some overgrown trail that makes a lot of people stop and look at us like we’re the ones who are strange.

Anyway. Sideshow linked to Dark Roasted Blend, which linked to these photos of a Russian plane that looks like “Serenity.” The world is a mysterious place, if you keep your eyes open.

A long time ago I read the “Red Mars” trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson. Scientists colonize Mars, yadayada. On my list of favorite all-time books, etc. etc. The scientists are sort-of staying on Earth-time, but Mars’s day is an hour longer, so they’re trying to figure this out, what to call it. They decide to not mark it, make it just “the slip time,” or something like that. Keep it out of the hurdy-gurdy of a working day. An hour-long vacation.

A month or so ago, we were wandering around the grocery store, and Daughter wasn’t looking, and I slipped a package of “Pillsbury’s Orange Sweet Rolls” into the cart. Her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July as she said, “You DO love me!”

Now, Sunday mornings are set. This Sunday morning I’m sending her links to the “Serenity” look-alike, and baking sweet rolls, and it occurs to me that Sunday mornings are our slip-time; computers and links and no-effort sweet rolls, and nothing else coming in.

I hope your morning is quiet, too.