Dwell with Dignity

Today I'm proud to be part of Blog for Digs, a blogger fund-raising event benefiting Dwell with Dignity, a non-profit dedicated to creating inspiring homes for needy families by installing things like furnishings, art, bedding, and kitchen supplies. The big idea is that if you change someone's surroundings, you can also change their outlook on life.

I couldn't agree more.

As part of Blog for Digs (the brainchild of Claudia at Stonehouse Love), each participating blogger has been charged with one task: complete the sentence "My childhood bedroom was..." So here we go.

My childhood bedroom was a flurry of matching creamy-yellow-speckled furniture, which included all the usual suspects: a dresser, desk, chair, bookshelves, chest of drawers, and a bedside table. And the pièce de résistance? A big giant canopy bed.

I don't actually remember ever asking for or dreaming about a canopy, but my hunch is that it was in fact my father's idea for me.

Now, my dad is as manly as they come, which means this: Dad has a weakness for the ladies. And this is especially true when it comes to sweet, adorable, quick-witted ones who have a resemblance to his wife, the artistic nature of his little sister, and his own astonishing skills at organizing, math, and driving stick in a Datsun 280-Z (heh, just kidding on that last one, Dad).

My suspicion is that my father believed that every little girl--particularly his own--should grow up with a princess-like canopy bed. And that is what he gave me.

The top of this bed had a wavy look to it, which was a style a lot of girls had in the eighties (I don't have a photo, but here is something that looks much like it). Admittedly at first, I was disappointed that the bars supporting the underside of the canopy--which, hello, looked much like the monkey bars on my school playground--did not actually support the weight of a monkey-like seven-year-old. (Believe me--I tried more than once to swing the span of the top of that poor bed.) But once I learned my lesson, I decided to go with the next best thing: decorating the underside of the canopy by hanging from its bars several unlucky stuffed animals (many of which were, of course, monkeys).

The canopy wouldn't cooperate. But oh, the posts at the bed's four corners did! There were many a night I would swing round and round those poles singing along with my Disney records. (And YES, I realize this conjures up a stripperlady kind of image, but just go with me here. I was seven. SEVEN. Stop it.) Later, when I got rid of the record player and scored a boom box (and also the cassette tape of Madonna's "Like a Virgin" album, which I realize doesn't bode well for me asking you not to think of strippers), I found out that you could remove the very top portion of the posts and easily use them as fake microphones while you lip-synced to said album.

Totally awesome. AND ALSO WHOLESOME. Stop it.

After my family moved to a new city the summer before my eight-grade year, the canopy never went up again. And as my tastes changed, the old frame was eventually stored in a closet--finally sheltered from swinging wannabe singers and hanging plush animals. I believe my mom donated it to Goodwill some years later.

Secretly, I sort of hope it's still living an active life because someone's dad recognized its dreamy potential--and that some lucky girl somewhere is hanging animals from its bars and swinging around its posts. And not being a stripper. STOP IT.

Want more Blogs for Digs? Check out this post from Melissa Loves. And be sure to read Megan Charland's post on Monday. She's up next!

And if you'd like to donate to Dwell with Dignity, go here--and thanks!