You picked a bloom, showed me, I took it home, it aged. I thought it looked cool. I didn't even use its pollen because of ethics, so I don't know. But it wasn't me. I didn't even share the rose I emailed you a photo of because I thought it was unethical unless I transformed it at least one more generation. The one I bred out of that Shadow Dancer/Fingerpaint that was at death's door, and did die that following winter. You told me to save its genetics, and I did. Hell, I didn't even know I was going that day. The guy I was with was like we're going on an adventure and I was like cool where lol. I was helping him disassemble his factory at the time cause I was laid off, cause for some reason America thought variable loans were an amazing idea, and people like me in horticulture paid for their precious wisdom.

Anyway, I wouldn't even give Janet my dog's fart in a dime bag. They killed all of my test material before I even met you. I don't know who else did, but it was not via my fingertips. If anything, I'm still hoping RVR goes under so another nursery can further take its place. Like High Country.