We thought it would be good. Both of us, Melissa and I. A month at the cabin. A couple of weeks on vacation somewhere. The week of July 4 with the cousins sandwiched in between. That would leave about one week right before school starts unaccounted-for and unstructured.

We figured we'd survive. We didn't know we'd thrive. I think this was the best summer we've ever had.

Here's what I remember.

I taught Business Statistics at Diablo Valley College on Thursday evenings. My last class was May 21. The next day was the first day of BottleRock in Napa Valley. I bought two 3-day passes for myself and Lily, but it would have been miserable driving there after school, so I went that day by myself.

It was pretty fun being there alone but I remember thinking that I should have invited my Uncle Brad. I had the extra ticket and didn't use it.

I really enjoyed being there with Lily on Saturday and Sunday. She's easy to travel with. She's curious, she's courteous, and she likes to have fun. She gets excited and doesn't tire easily. Even when she doesn't love the music (I was very excited to see Bush and the Foo Fighters) she doesn't complain. I felt proud to be her dad.

Lily and me in front of the flower wall at BottleRock

My kids had school for one more week. It was a pretty normal stretch of work for me. Then I went to Pinecrest, where summer really begins.

I'll note this section by the "firsts" we enjoyed this summer at Pinecrest.

Looking out over the Sierra from a granite outcrop above Pinecrest

Sitting on a patch of leftover snow on the hike from the Giannelli trailhead

When I think back on Pinecrest this summer, I remember how easy it felt. We gave our guests the sleeping cabin. Lily and I shared the big outdoor bed on the side porch. I made coffee early every morning and worked inside to avoid the mosquitoes. After an hour or so, as the kids would wake up, I'd go for a run around the lake. I made a lot of bacon and eggs for breakfast. We'd use leftovers to make sandwiches for lunch, and dinner almost every night involved grilling over the fire with a guitar in one hand and a cocktail in the other.

Our many guests, including the Rinow family in cabin 4, made it all the more special. I love that Melissa and the kids never asked to go home. It fills my soul.

We eventually did have to come home. I don't enjoy the process of putting the cabin back together. It's laundry, sweeping, and throwing out leftovers. I'm usually alone for these 24 to 36 hours and there's always something else to do. It's not relaxing at all.

I came home to the imminent arrival of Melissa's sisters and their families. We had the Powells with us, including their three kids, Anderson and his twin sisters Juno and Romie. The Mitchells stayed at the Lafayette Park, including cousins Maddox and Colette.

The girls with their scooters decked out for the Fourth of July

The highlight, again, was the freedom we gave to the kids. They wandered the cul de sac, and on the 4th of July, they had free rein of the horseshoe of Ponderosa Street where the decades-old festivities were held once again this year. They all played well together and I was able to take off with one of my brothers-in-law to wander around Walnut Creek and find a cold drink.

It was hot but it didn't matter. The kids had a blast.

The following week was their only camp, a Girl Scout camp in the hills near our house. They went for three days and then we took off for Croatia, the real highlight of our summer.

I have enjoyed a few short periods of perfect bliss in my life. These are moments in time when everything is perfect. I'm where I want to be, I feel good, and I am aware that this synchronicity of perfection is too fun and too good to last for long.

That was my MIT Sloan graduating class flotilla in May 2009 in the British Virgin Islands. A dozen boats, each packed to the brim with soon-to-be MBAs, and not a care in the world. We're wrapping up business degrees at MIT, soon to be burdened with debts and careers, but for now, we care about nothing. The course work is behind us. Real life awaits our return. In this interim, we are completely free.

I relished this time, and I wanted to find a way to get it back. One more bite at that apple.

This spring, Melissa handed it to me. She suggested that we ditch our plans to go to Yellowstone and instead go sailing in Croatia. She was with me on that trip in BVI. She remembered how much we loved it, and I'd told her years ago that I wanted us to take the girls and go again. She suggested Croatia.

"Well, sure," I said when Melissa suggested the itinerary change. "Let's try it."

Part of me couldn't believe this was going to happen. It became real when she found the charter boat service, put in the down payment, and we started to book our flights into Croatia and out of Slovenia. A plan came together:

Epic, epic, epic. We were going to do all of this with our 9- and 11-year-old daughters. I couldn't wait.

Reading in the cockpit while anchored in a quiet cove

Early morning on the trampoline of Summer Magic, anchored off one of the islands

The girls at dinner in one of the small island harbors

The four of us on the quay at the end of the day

The outcome was better than we imagined. Nobody got sick. Nobody asked to go home. The girls were wonderful, real troopers throughout. They dealt with the heat, they adapted to life on the boat, they ate the seafood and were wonderful guests at Petra's family house on Brac.

The worst day we had was our second day in Slovenia. The plan was to see Lake Bled and the vicinity. It was hot that day and we got a later start than we expected. I probably ran that morning. I didn't think we needed to rush.

Unfortunately, a whole bunch of German and Italian tourists planned to visit Bled that day too. A trailhead we wanted to visit turned us away. There was nowhere to park around Lake Bled. The next lake over, Bohinj, was just as busy. I found a parking lot and we went on a small hike, found a stream that we weren't allowed to swim in. Plus, the water was too cold. We walked to the only restaurant nearby and it was closed.

The girls had given up. We salvaged the day by driving back to Ljubljana to take them go-karting. That night, they stayed at the hotel while Melissa and I had a lovely long dinner with Luka and his partner. The day turned out perfectly fine. That's as bad as it got.

Our last day was spent on ebikes between Tarvisio and Venzone in Italy. It was hot. We suffered together and we made the 35-mile journey over 3.5 hours. We took a crowded train back up. I had my last grapefruit Radler, a delicious low-alcohol beer, perfect for the summer.

When I think about this trip, I will mostly remember our time on the sea. The little towns we visited in the small harbors on the large islands. How I developed a taste for espresso. How our skipper taught me to grill whole fish the proper Croatian way. How I swam underwater to get out of a cave with Lily on one of our beach stops. Anchoring alone on our first night. Watching the World Cup Final from a small pizza cafe inside the city walls of Korcula's old town. Watching the girls paddle together from the bow of our 46-foot catamaran called Summer Magic.

These were moments of perfection, of bliss, that reminded me of our British Virgin Islands trip 17 years before.

Going into the summer, and particularly into this trip, I demanded that I remain present. I didn't want to be distracted with work or stressed about Shovels. And to my team's credit, I truly wasn't. The Shovels work I did was fun stuff that I opted into. I was present. I was there. I remember everything clearly.

It's everything I wanted.

I write this on our last night of summer break. Tomorrow my older daughter will ride her bike to a new school as she enters 6th grade. My younger daughter will walk with me to the bus stop, where I'll chat with the dads the same way I did before summer started.

I'm looking forward to being on the old routine.