The Rose Must Stay White

I'm rather proud of the white roses in our garden. Not that I have any right to be, as I did little more than water them occasionally and tie them back when they got unruly.

Which reminds me... I grew up in Saddleworth - west of the Pennines (basically the Lancashire side) - but clinging on as part of the old West Riding of Yorkshire.

The story goes that one day some clever marketing chaps decided on a nifty bit of re-branding, a white rose with red petals, to reflect the area's rich and varied heritage.

Local legend has it that the village Coop instantly sold out of Tippex, and the moors echoed to cries of proud, unruly Yorkshire folk insisting 'Th' Rurze musst staaay whart".