The butchered Iceberg is making new shoots. In November. Poor thing.
I have no idea what it will do next year.
And with shorter days, cooler temperatures and less sun (three hours, versus their previous six-plus), these Windermere flowers last weeks.
I will plant the fig into a larger pot, soon. If next year's summer sun does not rise above the building in front of us, I will give it to a sunnier home.