Which reminds me of a funny story. Many years ago, back when I worked at a nursery, one of my duties was to write descriptive signs for the roses on display. One day I decided to perform an amusing little experiment: for one group of roses, I wrote descriptions that evoked images of food, using appetizing adjectives like delicious, creamy, rich, frothy, scrumptious, and good enough to eat with a spoon. For a different group of similar roses, I wrote descriptions that were more sexual in nature, employing such suggestive adjectives as sensuous, voluptuous, shapely, erect, ravishing, and slutty. I'm not sure what it says about rose shoppers (or about my writing abilities), but within a week we sold twice as many of the foodie roses as we did the sexy roses. Go figure. Anyhow, back to 'Rainbow Sorbet.' It's already at the top of my shopping list for 2006, and this is not just because it's named after a wonderful dessert (a rose by any other name would taste as sweet, right Romeo?), or because it looks like such a nice cool refreshing treat for a hot summer day. Or even because I've made myself ravenously hungry with all this incessant food writing. The fact is, I've been VERY impressed with the reports I've heard from gardeners who've been test growing 'Rainbow Sorbet.' They rave about its disease resistance, its huge dramatic flowers, its long vase life, its magnificent fragrance, and its excellent rebloom. And, well, it is awfully pretty. This all makes sense, since 'Rainbow Sorbet' is a descendant of that tough and popular old workhorse floribunda 'Playboy.' (You know, they're superb roses and all, but 'Playboy' and 'Sexy Rexy' might want to think about changing their names to something like 'Tiramisu,' or 'Creme Brulee,' or 'Blackened Ahi Tuna Seared With Shiitake Glaze, Ginger, and Wasabi'.) Why yes, thanks, now that you mention it I think I will have seconds on the 'Rainbow Sorbet.' Dr. Leda 2005