Is that mimosa I smell?

Like the dork I am, I wait all year for TCM to play one of my favorite ghost movies of all time: The Uninvited. Not those sad looking modern ones of the same name. I am talking the 1944 black and white classic. Come October, I religiously check the schedule and sure enough last night it graced my TV screen. If only they would put the darn thing on DVD, I wouldn't have to stalk the channel, but such is life. There's something charming about the tale. Maybe it's the creepy looking house on the cliff setting the mood (and yes, I ignore the occasional fake looking backdrops). Maybe it's the way the shadows creep steadily towards you at just the right time. Maybe its the psychotic way the lady who runs the asylum talks to the painting of her dead friend. Whatever the reason, I find myself tuning in year after year to be enchanted by the smell of mimosa, the crash of the waves along the rocks, and the wispy ghost which used to scare the pants off me as a kid. All I know is if I chase my dog into a house like that some day, I am buying it. Thanks to the movie, now I'll know what to do.