Thanks for that, David! I have a dehydrator. It's a Nesco 5-tray with a thermostat. Had it last year already, but had my worst year ever for tomatoes last year, so there were hardly enough to eat fresh and definitely no drying going on! Have only used it for apples, pears, and basil and sage at this point. I don't grow plum or any kind of sauce tomatoes since I prefer to eat as many of them as possible fresh, so what I have are regular eating varieties ranging mostly from small to medium, plus my much-loved cherries! (Early Glee, Mormon World's Earliest, Bloody Butcher, Stupice, Abe Lincoln, Moskovich, and Beefsteak -- I got a couple of those by "default" after having the most incredibly difficult time of starting seedlings I've ever had this year!) Also Sweet Baby Girl, Sungold, Sweetie, and Aunt Ruby's Yellow, the cherries!) This year was my BEST tomato year ever, and while they're hanging happily in the garage right now, a lot of them were already ripe when I brought them in this year, so I need to do "something" with them, and I was wanting to try drying some of them anyway--when I had enough! I think I'll slice them about a half inch or a little less, cut the skins to keep them from warping too much, and maybe sprinkle a little bit of sea salt on them like some people suggest on that thread you linked. Will probably lay them on paper towels as I'm cutting them up to soak up at least a little bit of the excess juice before putting them on the dehydrator trays. I'll try drying them different degrees this first time, and I'll be keeping them in the freezer anyway once I get them done and in bags, just to be sure they don't "get sick" in any way--it would be a shame to lose them after going to all the work of drying them! About what temperature do you dry yours at? The thread you linked does sound very interesting! I can't do the red wine thing since I don't ever have red wine around since I can't drink red, but I might try soaking a few of them in miscellaneous things first, maybe some seasoned rice vinegar, which I love, and maybe even try a few in some of the white wine I have around. Sprinkle some of my dried basil on a few of them first?!? Sounds like lots of things to try! I read thru much of that thread and some people even talk about dehydrating cherries--since I have plenty of those ripe all at the same time this year I think I'll be trying some of them too. Your "spread" sounds good! Kind of like a "tomato pesto!" Might try that, tho it won't have THAT much garlic in it!!! And I found a great recipe for a nice crusty bread that I make in my bread maker (and bake in the oven) and it sounds like it would be wonderful on that! Thanks for the basic directions to get me started, Skybird

Numbness in toes could very well be from lumbar spine nerve compression. Numbness in fingers to wrist would be nerve compression in the cervical spine. You need to see a spine specialist; either an orthopedic surgeon who specializes in spines or a neurosurgeon who specializes in spines only. With the MRI results of 2 ruptured discs in your lower spine, the chances of B12 deficiency causing the problem you have are very unlikely. Fran

I love it.I am so thankful my 15 yr old son is a good kid. MOM Shelley

          Flannan Isle Wilfrid Wilson Gibson (1878-1962)   "THOUGH three men dwell on Flannan Isle   To keep the lamp alight,   As we steered under the lee, we caught   No glimmer through the night."   A passing ship at dawn had brought   The news; and quickly we set sail,   To find out what strange thing might ail   The keepers of the deep-sea light.   The Winter day broke blue and bright,   With glancing sun and glancing spray,   As o'er the swell our boat made way,   As gallant as a gull in flight.   But, as we neared the lonely Isle;   And looked up at the naked height;   And saw the lighthouse towering white,   With blinded lantern, that all night   Had never shot a spark   Of comfort through the dark,   So ghostly in the cold sunlight   It seemed, that we were struck the while   With wonder all too dread for words.   And, as into the tiny creek   We stole beneath the hanging crag,   We saw three queer, black, ugly birds   Too big, by far, in my belief,   For guillemot or shag   Like seamen sitting bolt-upright   Upon a half-tide reef:   But, as we neared, they plunged from sight,   Without a sound, or spurt of white.   And still to mazed to speak,   We landed; and made fast the boat;   And climbed the track in single file,   Each wishing he was safe afloat,   On any sea, however far,   So it be far from Flannan Isle:   And still we seemed to climb, and climb,   As though we'd lost all count of time,   And so must climb for evermore.   Yet, all too soon, we reached the door   The black, sun-blistered lighthouse-door,   That gaped for us ajar.   As, on the threshold, for a spell,   We paused, we seemed to breathe the smell   Of limewash and of tar,   Familiar as our daily breath,   As though 't were some strange scent of death:   And so, yet wondering, side by side,   We stood a moment, still tongue-tied:   And each with black foreboding eyed   The door, ere we should fling it wide,   To leave the sunlight for the gloom:   Till, plucking courage up, at last,   Hard on each other's heels we passed,   Into the living-room.   Yet, as we crowded through the door,   We only saw a table, spread   For dinner, meat and cheese and bread;   But, all untouched; and no one there:   As though, when they sat down to eat,   Ere they could even taste,   Alarm had come; and they in haste  ...