Dogs, Love, and a Hook-Up at Home Depot

Finding myself deep in the heart of Texas.

Cindy Heath
The Memoirist

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An image of the words ‘Welcome to Earth’ painted in bright colors on the side of City Hall in a small town. The highway sign says ‘Earth city limit. Pop. 1109 and a snapshot of the author, a woman with gray hair wearing a blue shirt and holding a small German Shepherd puppy.
Author’s image of signs for Earth, Texas, and herself way back in 2005.

The West Texas sun glowed pumpkin orange, muskmelon yellow, and the red of ripe tomatoes. I set down my sledgehammer and shook my arms. I’d spent the morning gardening and the afternoon removing the ceiling full of pigeon poop out of my extreme fixer-upper of a house.

Five o’clock? I still needed to feed the dogs and get ready for a date, my first in 34 years. My hair was a mess. Would he like me? Memories of being an insecure teenager rushed back. What was I doing?

Sometimes, I was impulsive; too quick to prove things to myself and others — like this house, and insisting that I could fix it by myself. Perhaps it was not only about the house. It might have been a little about rebuilding my life and proving that I didn’t need a man. I prided myself on being tough and tried to believe I could be happy with only my dogs for company.

But that wasn’t the truth, not really. I worried I’d never be enough — for myself or anyone else. If I stayed away from men, from the potential of love or commitment I could pretend I was brave. Pretend it didn’t matter.

I missed having someone to talk to, and, yes, I missed sex. Being alone was more challenging than I’d expected.

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Cindy Heath
The Memoirist

I’ve been a farmer, entrepreneur, writer, and more. I'm passionate about nutrition, health, nature, and the rewards of personal writing.