Flo lived in the woodshed in secret before revealing herself to Maria and I during a snowstorm. She is my cat, really, she sleeps in my lap when she can, sits by me when she can. She reminds me to reveal myself, to learn who I am, to accept it and to be proud of it. Like many good people, I spent most of my life trying to figure out how to get inside of the tent, I am spending the rest of it celebrating the idea that I am where I belong. Flo’s winters are warmer now.