Some man showed up today — always a man — saw him chasing Robert around but I don’t think he caught him. I gave him the look, and told him he could weigh the place up if he wanted but nothing was open, including the bathrooms (always a good one — then they can only stay as long as it takes to fill their bladders. They know I’m watching them.)

The lake is quiet. I think I hear someone cutting logs over the other side. Dave’s been out on his boat, gave us a wave. Crows are loud. Time for a glass and a cigarette.

I’ve thought about doing that. I’d like to feel more than just the in-place manager. But on the other hand I don’t want to have to deal with the Parks; the current lessee hasn’t dome much for us, but I think that’s down to  us being low on Parks’ totem pole. I wouldn’t want to fight that.

Speaking of totem poles, this Newman is a dead ringer for Fred Jesperson. At least, in the haircut department. We just don’t get haircuts like that over here, really. Too much maintenance, for one thing, keeping all the short bits short and the long bits just-so. Fred says it’s an image thing. First impressions she says, takes the wind out of the opposition’s sails.

I can see that. Anyway Newman, I’m pretty sure, hasn’t thought anywhere hear that much about his haircut. He says he wants the lease, I said why, he said because he wants to live up here, do good things, and make it a little Northwest gem. I have no idea, but apparently he’s something to do with a big corporation — he won’t let on, but I think he’s a bigger wig than he appears. He’ll need cash anyway to take over that lease, and a lot more to do anything with this place beyond unblocking the toilets.

But he seems ok. He has to move pretty quick, that lease is up and if it doesn’t get taken on by someone I don’t know what’ll happen. They could shut down the resort and just use volunteers to put in some trails or something. We were only ever the poor relation to the Coldwater pizazz down at the bay, anyway; visitors would spend a day trip with a packed lunch, and an afternoon wondering why people would actually rent one of those cabins. They might buy a pair of flip-flops. Some stayed to criticize the restaurant.

We’ll see.