One of the main problems in writing a book called 'The Buttercup: The remarkable story of Andrew Ewing and the Buttercup Dairy Company' is that few, except some elderly Scottish pensioners have ever heard of either. But that is a sales issue and takes nothing away from what really is a remarkable story.

Born in the far south west of Scotland in 1869 – the son of a tenant farmer – Andrew Ewing went on to found a once famous Scottish grocery empire before quietly giving away his fortune in his final ambition to die a poor man. He was not interested in high profile projects that would establish his name in history and instead gave generously to the poor. All eggs laid at his farm on a Sunday were given to charity – over 100,000 a week - and during the Depression years he personally handed out food to those in need.

I wrote The Buttercup because I was one of the few who knew the story and believed that it needed to be told. However, even I didn't know the whole story and was amazed at some of the remarkable tales and information gleaned from interviews with former Buttercup staff and members of the Ewing family.

The Buttercup is catagorised as social history – and it is. However, I also wrote the book as a story, with the intention of bringing out the humanity of those involved and the wonderful atmosphere that pervaded within the company itself.