|
 There are many things that went into the history of naming this rose, but it all start in Australia...many years ago. A very special dessert recipe was brought to the huge island continent by the English imigrants. They called it the plum duffy or plum duff. This is a pudding that is more like a cake. It is traditionally served on holidays, especially at Christmas time. When my Mom was growing up in Australia, her 'Mum' would make a plum duffy for Christmas dessert. Unfortunately, my Mom never learned to make this treat or just couldn't be bothered with such an elaborate project. I only got to see this special pudding made once, when my Nana and Grandpa came to America in 1957. That Christmas, Nana made her special plum duffy for the family, including my aunt, uncle and 6 cousins. First, she mixed up a thick, sweet pudding, about the consistency of thick, pancake batter; and it was set aside to cool. I don't remember seeing her add any plums to the batter, but the original recipe may have contained them or was flavored with plum juice. The next step in the process got everyone's attention. All of the men in the house were asked to contribute their silver, pocket change. The coins had to be silver, because the recipe required that the coins be boiled. Finally, Grandpa made his donation to the plum duffy...a huge, Australian coin, bigger and heavier than any silver dollar. He made very sure that all of us kids saw that monster coin, before it went 'plop' into the bubbling pot of water. After a few minutes of boiling, the 'cleaned' coins were stirred to the batter, and the lumpy mixture was poured into several layers of cheesecloth, about 3 feet in diameter. This process was done over the sink, as fluid from the batter was already leaking through the cloth. Once all of the batter was in the cloth, the sides of the fabric were drawn up into a bag shape. Then, one of the men twisted the bag tighter and tighter, forming a large ball shape, as the cloth wept its juices into the sink. When the ball of cloth was as round and tight as possible, it was secured at the top with string. The large ball was then placed into a pressure cooker to cook for what seemed like an hour. The smell of the steam from cooking pudding filled the house with a wonderful aroma. After cooking, the firm ball of the plum duffy was released from its cheese cloth covering and turned 'bottom side up' on a platter. This careful placement of the pudding was important. All of the silver coins tended to sink to the bottom of the batter, as the cloth bag was being sqeezed and tied. Those coins now had to be located at the top of the pudding for serving. Though, we couldn't see the coins in the thick cake-like ball, everybody knew that the plum duffy contained a wealth of coins, including Grandpa's monster Aussie coin. Nana decorated the pudding with a wreath of holly around the bottom; and brought it ceremoniously to the table, when the rest of the Christmas dinner was finished. Then, Grandpa poured liquor (probably brandy) over the plum duffy and lit the top of the ball-shaped cake with a match. There were 9 children and 6 adults gathered for that Christmas feast. Everyone was watching the plum duffy at the center of the long table, as the blue flames danced on top of it for almost a minute. There was lots of happy chatter, as Nana started to serve the plum duffy with a ladle size spoon. The kids were talking about Grandpa's big coin, and the adults were giving out warning to the children to be careful not to swallow any of the treasure. Each child got a big scoop from the top of the pudding, and we were allowed to keep any coins in our serving of the plum duffy. We had to hand the plates down the length of the table; and some of the coins were showing in the servings that went by me, but not the big Aussie coin. When my cousin, Steven, found Grandpa's coin in his pudding, he cheered loudly and raised his treasure high in the air. The rest of us were terribly jealous, but none of us left the table empty handed that day. I don't remember how the plum duffy tasted, though I am sure that it was good. I only remember that I was too busy, carefully searching each bite of that cake-like treat with my teeth and tongue for coins, before swallowing. I didn't want to gulp down a dime or quarter, in my haste to eat my serving of this pudding. The adults got the bottom portion of the plum duffy. That was the part of the pudding that had been sitting in the brandy, soaking it up. Of the adults, only Uncle Warren found a coin in his 'bottom serving' of the pudding. Mom must have really loved that Christmas treat to name a rose for it. However, I believe that there was a second reason that she may have chosen that name. Her Mum, aka Nana to us grandkids, used to give and ask for a 'special kind of kiss'. The kiss involved putting your hands on both cheeks of the recipient's face, then kissing them on the mouth gently. She called this special kiss a 'Plum Duffy'. 'Plum Duffy' was another self set seedling of 'Magic Carrousel'. Can you imagine a non-fragrant white mini with a pink picote edge on each petal producing a very fragrant seedling in deep mauve? Stranger things have happen in hybridizing. Though its parent plant is large and vigorous, 'Plum Duffy' tends to make a very low growing plant, never more than 15 inches tall; and that can take a couple of years; but it is worth the wait.
The Whole Story  Some you already know that I made the decision to name one of Mom's roses for every letter of the alphabet in the summer of 1989. A rose friend pointed out the fact that there was a Dee Bennett rose for nearly every letter of the alphabet...from 'Ada Perry' to 'Zelda Lloyd'. However, there were some missing letters, including the hardest one of all...'X'. For the next few years, I concentrated on naming more of Mom's roses for the remaining letters of the alphabet, including 'Wild Thing', 'Old Fashioned Girl', 'Violet Mist', and 'Quiet Time'. I left the hardest letters (I, K, U and X) for last. In 1992, there was only one registered rose that started with the letter 'X'. That was 'Xavier'. Even the dictionary didn't give me any reasonable options. I certainly didn't want to name a rose 'Xylophone' or 'Xenophobia'. While working with the Grasso's twin boys, one summer at the Del Mar Fair, I mentioned the missing letters to my teenage helpers. Paul immediately suggested 'X-Rated' as an 'X' name. That idea appealed to me. After all, there were already several sexy names in the Dee Bennett collection, including 'Hanky Panky', 'Naughty But Nice', 'Pucker Up', 'Cuddle Up' and 'Little Huzzy'. It just so happened that I had a mini test rose ready for release, but the rose still had no name. It didn't even have a nickname; and this was a really good-looking rose. The form on this mini was perfect; and the color was white..."that blushed pink"...in the sun. Suddenly, the word "blushed" took on a new meaning to me. Here was a "blushing" rose for the risque name. This mini also had a real strong perfume. How perfect could it be for that sexy name? So, this great new mini was registered as 'X-Rated'. The lady at the ARS registration department asked me, if I was serious about the name, when I called to reserve it. She wondered, if the name was "appropriate"...or was I just making a joke. I told her, "Mom named a rose 'Angel Dust', and no one at the ARS thought that was inappropriate." I also let her in on my plan to finish the ABC's with Dee Bennett roses and swore her to secrecy. I didn't want any other hybridizer to finish the alphabet before we did. When 'X-Rated' was first announced in the ARS Magazine, I received lots of calls about the unusually named rose; and several folks bought the mini, just to have "an x-rated rose" in their garden. Some rosarians had already made their own 'red light gardens' that featured roses, like 'Sexy Rexy' and that Tipsy Concubine rose. 'X-Rated' would fit in nicely with those bawdy roses. However, the real attention came for 'X-Rated', when it started to show up on trophy tables all across America. It wasn't long, before 'X-Rated' was one of the top mini show roses in the USA. Now, this is not a perfect rose. It will get mildew, if you don't spray it; but with a regular spray regime, you will get tons of gorgeous blooms.
 One of the last rose events that Mom and I attended together was the ARS National Convention in Seattle, Washington, just one year before she died. I was still exhibiting roses; and Mom had been asked to speak, as a member of a panel of mini rose hybridizers. Mom asked me to come along to the convention with her...for moral support. Unlike her extrovert daughter, Mom was terrified to speak in public. She was honored to be included in a panel that included Ralph Moore and Ernie Williams, but she couldn't imagine what she would say. She was supposed to talk about her new introductions for the coming year. To my surprise...she hadn't decided on their names yet, and the registrations were due in about 30 days. Needless to say, we did nothing but talk about rose names on the flight up to Seattle. That night, she finally settled on 'Hat Pin' for her new micromini; but she still hadn't chosen a final name for the fragrant lavender mini. It wasn't, until she stood up in front of that room full of people at the convention that the final name came out of her mouth. All of the male speakers had concluded their carefully planned comments. The final speaker was Mom. She was trembling so badly that the podium began rattling 'loudly', when she grabbed hold of it. Her voice was shaking, as she talked about 'Hat Pin'; and then, she began to describe the fragrant lavender mini and said, "I...I...I thought that I...I...I might called it...(she hesitated for a long moment)...Always A Lady." Suddenly, the room erupted in applause. The crowd gave Mom a standing ovation. Many folks were applauding her courage to speak before the large group, since it was obvious that she wasn't comfortable giving speeches. Others were applauding 'the little lady' who had successfully joined the ranks of the 'male dominated' world of rose hybridizing...and some people were applauding their friend, Dee Bennett, who they knew was fighting cancer. Of course, everyone in the room thought that the name 'Always A Lady' was appropriate, considering who had created the rose. Mom was 'always a lady', but she didn't understand. She would never have made that connection. The last Tiny Petals Nursery catalog that Mom ever saw was supposed to feature a photo of 'the lady' on the cover. Mom thought that I meant to feature her latest mini rose. It surprised her, when she saw the photo of 'the real lady'...herself...on that 1987 catalog cover. That booklet became a collectors item for many of her friends and TPN customers. The seed parent was 'Deep Purple', Armstrong's mauve floribunda; and the pollen parent was Mom's mauve, mini flora 'Dilly Dilly'. Both of these parents are fragrant, which definitely help to give 'Always A Lady' its knockout scent.
 When your mother is a world famous rose hybridizer, the creator of champion minis like 'Jean Kenneally' and 'Irresistible', most people would assume that she saved her best roses to name for her children. Wrong!!! Back in 1978, I was in my hayday as a rose exhibitor, winning loads of trophies with both big roses and minis. I definitely preferred minis with show potential to the plethera of decorative form minis that were beginning to swamp the market place. I certainly wasn't going to waste my precious time, garden space, water or fertilizer on any rose that could not even win a blue ribbon, let alone a trophy. On the other hand, Mom could find something to love in any of her seedlings that managed to throw a bloom...and even a few that refused to bloom. As a hybridizer, she truly seemed to lack the ability to critically evaluate her own roses. She feared introducing any rose that might "look too much like" some other mini, which was already registered; and yet she held onto seedlings that were horrible for years and even introduced a few of them. I used to stop by the nursery about once a week, and Mom would insist that I check out her seedlings that were blooming. Mom actually wanted my 'exhibitor's eye' view of her babies and admitted that my evaluations of her test roses would probably echo that of the ARS ratings later, though she didn't always like what I had to say. Too often, I was the person who had to speak the words which no one else had the courage to say to Mom's face. Everyone knows that no 'mother' wants to hear negative comments about their babies, even when they are TRUE. Certainly, no hybridizer wants to hear that their rose is "ugly...puny...disease prone...nothing special"...and even..."That thing should be toss out." The truth does hurt sometimes; but it is necessary, when evaluating roses. When I did give Mom a bad review of one of her seedlings, she would poke out her bottom lip. Then, she would try to defend 'the dear, little thing'; but usually, she would end up admitting that my critique was extremely accurate. Now, don't fuss at me that I was too critical, because I was an exhibitor! Most of my comments were related to poor growth, disease problems and other plant related issues. You should also keep in mind that I am the person who talked Mom into introducing the seedling that became 'Jean Kenneally', when a customer almost talked her into throwing it out...because the uninformed visitor thought that her test looked "too much like 'Party Girl'." Now, I did make one big mistake that I regret to this day. There was one particular day, when I wish that I had kept my big mouth shut about a certain, light pink, micro mini. Mom had about 10 small plants of this mini test rose, when I first really noticed it. Apparently, the tiny plants had been buried behind the other tests. Mom told me that she probably would not be introducing that test because the blooms were too small. She commented that "Microminis just don't sell. No one seems to want them." At that moment, I was looking at the rather impressive spray of about 25 petite flowers on a single stem, which made up much of one small plant. My first thought was, "It's kinda cute, but it's got no show form". That's when I made my big mistake...I spoke. "Arrangers would probably love this rose. The blooms are just the right size for those really small arrangements." I said this in an off handed manner and moved on to other tests with form. I never thought anymore about that puny, little test rose, until a few months later, when Mom introduced that micromini in her catalog. EGADS!!! It was registered as 'SWEET SUE'; and Mom said that she had named for me, "because I saw the potential in the little rose"!!! NOOOOOO!!! How could she do this to me? She had named a micromini with no show form for ME...a dedicated exhibitor...a notorious hardware hunter. (Boo Hoo) Why, Mom? Why! Couldn't you just wait a little bit longer and name that great apricot test #120 for me? Your friend Jean Kenneally wouldn't mind, if #120 got named for me, instead of her. Really. : (
The year that my Mom died, this rose was in it's final year of testing by the ARS. It was the highest rated rose in the Award Of Excellence gardens...all 9 of them. There wasn't even another test rose that came close to it's rating.
|