Mr O,

Nope. you're not going to be a cousin of mine.

Dad's only brother was killed in Lithuania.
During the war.
He was a high school student.
And mum was an only child.

So - we're not going to be related.

Although - your blue eyes might help.

My Gran was from St. Petersburg and she had the
bluest eyes. Remarkable lady. I've inherited her
mane of hair. Although my eyes are green. But they
do change colour - depending on my mood.

But no - she was an only child as well.

Sorry, can't help you.

Although, there's grandpa ...

Mr O,

How tall are you?

Grandpa was about six feet seven.

Well Foxy, you've sparked me into joining in, after a long period of disenchantment with too many on OLO raging against moderation and civility.
(I've kept checking-in fairly regularly, but have resisted - though I was somewhat inclined to contribute a comment on your thread about "Aussies". In that vein, my observation has been that it takes all kinds, and virtually every possible configuration may be found - from PhD's to dolts, artists, musicians, poets and story-tellers, to those who refuse to accept the limitations/imperatives of their DNA.

From my childhood in 1940's Wagga, to my adult life in Sydney and beyond, I have assessed that the Aussie bludger/larrikin has been a constant, unfortunately - but thankfully in a relative minority, particularly now, thanks to so many more recent arrivals to this great country.)

My Dad came out from Greece in 1920 - having been a police officer in Greece during WW1 - to join his older brother, who sponsored him.
My Mum was a third-generation Aussie, from English/Scottish and Irish heritage.
Naturally, when my parents got together they were both working in cafes, bought a chicken farm, then a milk bar - and from there to Sydney for the boys' education, and to reasonable comfort - with two proud and reasonably successful sons.
Dad worked hard, and certainly kept involved with the Greek community where we lived, and Mum worked like a Trojan, maintained a tender cautious hand on the tiller, and raised us well (I think).

Much has changed, with somewhat less community spirit, and a substantial increase in those who feel 'entitled' and take an awful lot for granted - though fortunately there are still enough of us volunteering to fight bushfires and support do's and undertake maintenance at the local hall.
I was a Natio in '65 and saw some country, and a little more since.
We are the 'Lucky Country', though some, possibly many, are yet to recognize their good fortune being here.

My blessings Foxy. Keep well.

I was born in the bush, central NSW, but lived most of my growing up days in Sydney. Although my mother never lost her longing for the country life, and she would return there often with us kids, up to six months at a time, away from the 'old man', we always spent the 6 weeks Xmas hols back at the "old place", as Mum always called it. City and country life were like chalk and cheese.

The grandparents lived in the village, granddad had years before bought the station masters house, his sheep property of 750 acres was about 5 miles away. There was a one room primary school in the village, timber railway station, passenger trains 3 times a day, tiny post office run by two old spinster sisters, it was the hub of the village, everyone had mail collect daily, two shops, two small churches, used once a month each, and I don't know why a tennis court for the locals. Very picturesque, with its few houses dotted on the surrounding hills. Progress over the years has seen all that disappear.

What do I recall about the bush; besides the people, sheep, and all things sheep, lot of sheep, steam trains, some for people, but most for sheep. there were plenty of rabbits and blackberries, two enemies of the farmer, one to be shot or trapped, the other to be burned, but both nice eating. Yabbies in the creek and dams, another feast for both man and chook, lots of chooks and associates of chooks, ducks, geese and turkeys! The turkeys were the royalty, the ducks and geese the dopes and the chickens the plebs of the poultry pen. Dogs, not pets, but working dogs, you guessed it, for the sheep, Simon and Lassie, I still remember their names. The only real freeloader was Grandmas cat, which couldn't do anything when it came to sheep. Oh! and snakes uninvited guests.

Hi Saltpetre

My parents are also greek, albeit i was ward of state under anglo-celtic parents from age of 5.

i watched SBS show about greeks in Darwin this week.

Was extremely amused that one of the greeks in early 20th century had to play with aboriginals football team given he was deemed not white enough. He helped them win four premierships.

Yes, the early 20th century days of Australia were hardly golden were they, if you were not British.

However, having experienced some small scarring from being called a wog often during the 1970s, I believe that Australia has moved on and has changed for the better in recent decades.

After all, racism is for neanderthals, and even they probably did not discriminate given they mingled with homosapiens.

I will correct last sentence.

Yes, people will discriminate sometimes against outsiders, but it is a nonsense when such discrimination is based on race and how you look.

IMO, as people interact, as the Australian example proves to most of us, most of the perceived and real differences can and will dissipate.

I said most