The Proper Cowboy Distance is 2 Feet, Maybe 3.
The Nash Family are a Western sort. By and By they might put on their Sunday Fancies and take pictures and such. But theres not much time for such things and the like, particularly not with chores to do around the house.
First there’s Papa Nash. Papa Nash is keen on fine spirits of the varietal found south of the California border. Down there, Whiskey and the like goes by the name of Tequila and legend has it that is created with cactus. Imagine that, Whiskey from the Cactus of all things. Moonshiners and like minded folk out there in the desert creating spirits from Cactus!
Papa Nash, on a particularly parched afternoon, is known to take a long tug from the bottle and exclaim to himself, “My my my, the Gods themselves have created a nectar so fine. I do declare”. Occasionally he will partake of that nectar a second or third time as a honorable gesture to those Gods so as not to get them riled for lack of respect of their most charitable gift to humankind.
And Mama Nash, she spends her time a keepin up the house. A sweepin and a hootin and hollerin at the boys to keep their dusty boots off the floor and such. Them boys know all to well that Mama Nash will not tolerate idleness and filth inside the house.
If’n they keep on a doin it, she claims, “they’ll be hell to pay boys” (and she says it two times on account of Papa Nash needs a double warning to heed her.
Mama Nash keeps the good humor in the house and makes a downright wicked plate of twice baked grits on hard tack with beef jerky drippins.
Mama Nash and Papa Nash been married and such on and so forth for a goin on a more years then it takes a stubborn mule to travel to them Chinese parts on the other side of the world. Now, the proper Cowboy distance between a Man and Wife is 2 feet in public and 3 feet when they’s in private.
Occasionally Papa Nash tries a sneeky smooch. “We’ll have none of that”, Mama Nash yells and quickly draws her gun from her holster to a show him she means business. She once fired a shot in the air to prove she was serious.
The pride and joy of the Nash family is them youngins. Young strappin boys that can bale a yard of hay quicker than you can yell, “bale that hay boys”. And they can eat. Mama’s twice-cooked grits go down real fine like after a hard day toilin in the Sun. Mama Nash shore do love them boys.
Youngin Ryan, the elder of the youngin’s is known for a whoopin and a hollerin something fierce when he goes to that big city – The Town of Las Vegas Neeeevada. Why just the other night he closed down every Saloon in the city and the local papers reported that he wasn’t drinkin Sasparella but the devils juice itself. Would you imagin that? The other youngin Kevin is a minstrel, wandering towns a singin a songs like a bird with a harp.
Well, that there is the story of the Nash family. A good family. A wholesome and clean living sort that isn’t beyond having a hearty laugh when temperaments allow. On the by and by we’ll see them soon I reckon.