An old dolls’ house is so soothing

VISITORS to our house who see my study (next door to the kitchen, which is very handy) sometimes smile at the new decorative feature.

There among the office equipment, piles of cuttings, books for review, magazines, works on psychotherapy, professional invitations and family photographs is . . . a large dolls’ house. It sits on top of two low filing cabinets and it’s my new therapy.

When my daughter was about five, my father bought a dolls’ house kit and built the miniature mansion, adapting it cleverly to make two extra rooms in the attic (for the children, you realise). He created little fireplaces and even a kitchen range.

My mother made a crib and curtains for the four-poster bed. With the careful wallpapering, lighting and furnishing, this was a true labour of love. And as such it was treasured, although at one point Kitty and her cousin thought it would be a good idea to wash the (papered) bathroom floor . . .

Years passed, Kitty grew up and had no room for the house, which stood on the attic floor here at home, in need of care and attention.

It awaits the time when her own two-year-old is old enough to appreciate the heirloom, but, meanwhile, it has a new life.

I brought it down and did it up, buying new furniture and accessories (oh, the tiny books…), giving it the new lease of life I so often urge on my readers.

Sometimes I open the doors, put the lights on and move the dolls around into different rooms, rather glad that Mr and Mrs and their five china children never change. The thought is oddly peaceful.

So it didn’t surprise me at all to hear there’s a new craze for colouring-in as therapy.

Young Scottish artist Johanna Basford is topping best-seller charts with her lovely, intricately- drawn books ( the Enchanted Forest is one) — because people find it so nostalgic and calming to put music or the radio on, get out the crayons and focus quietly on making something beautiful.

These pastimes may sound childlike, but they release the imagination — and, anyway, there’s much to learn from the innocence of a young child.

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, London W8 5TT, or e-mail bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. A pseudonym will be used if you wish. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.