Ficus back from camp and other goings on in the great outdoors

Every year about this time I heave a big sigh knowing the ficus has to come back indoors.  It does fabulously outside, since it sends roots through the bottom of the pot into the earth, and grows happily all summer that way, also anchors itself so it doesn't get blown over all the time.

However, it's a job and a half getting it unhooked from the ground -- tilting it, and supporting with one hand while clipping blind with the other, arms not long enough to see at the same time as doing all this. The tree is about eight feet tall at this point, too.  

I have to wrestle it into its giant drain saucer, get it into the house without losing any cats or destroying the screen door, and then get the lot onto its little wheeled stand.  I usually have Handsome Son's help, but he's not available at the right times this year.  A storm is forecast for tomorrow, after which it will be not. fun. at. all. to wrestle as above, with totally sodden and much heavier foliage.

So, all that.  And then I noticed the Rose of Sharon, that dear little survivor, crushed underfoot about ten times by the builders during the reno, ladders rested on her busted stems, uprooted completely three times, in her first year here, thought she'd never make it.  

Well, about that, I looked yesterday and found she was absolutely thriving.  About four times the size since spring, and actual buds showing up! See them there? These will be blue flowers, unusual for r of s, which I often see as sort of mauvy pink, or white with red centers.  Anyway, she was trying to work against the ficus which was now in her way.  So I figured after what she's been through, least I can do is lend a hand.

 
So here's the ficus indoors, lording it over the others. She's the only plant that can tolerate going out for the summer, since the vandals next door cut down the other half of my cherry tree and destroyed the shade and the branches to hang plants from.

And out front, the sedum is turning color, to its autumnal pink, it's Autumn Joy, and being appreciated by bees and little brown butterflies.  I like very much the bee activity, since there are hives not far from here, on the farm, and I think my plants are probably flavoring their honey.  Since I have a long standing ban on spraying by the landscapers, they're taking clean stuff home. Flavored with all my herbs, including Russian sage.

This all helps with the endless worry over the shenanigans in Washington, and now the heartbreak in Houston.  My experience tells me to wait just a few days to donate, till the various agencies are geared up to accept and process donations, preferably money.  I'm checking into food banks there, to give directly at the ground level.