More hearts than you can poke a cattle prod at

I've just returned from outback South Australia where I was taking part in a documentary about women from different walks of life learning to become jillaroos.
 I won't go into the details of my brush with the world of film-making and farm work just yet, as I am still a little shell-shocked and trying to process all the sights/sounds and experiences of what turned out to be a mammoth month — mentally and physically.
Watch this space ...
But, I am happy to report that I won a few hearts.
Three to be exact: I was given two stone hearts retrieved from the red dirt (one is included above, the other is so tiny that it would not have shown up in a photo) and a rustic tin heart with my initial on it.
 I bought the fancy red one myself, so that doesn't count.
These random hearts were given to me by people who barely knew me. But their timing, in each instance, was impeccable.
As if on cue, these sweet little symbols turned up just when I needed to show some ticker.
How heartening.