One of the best aspects of the Baltimore row house is the front yard. IT IS LITTLE. At least mine is, and so are most of them in the area where I live, which is considered Wyman Park/Hampden. My husband and I both hate to do yard work, so the small square patches of grass in front and in back of our house are very manageable.

I would like to give snaps to the homeowner on an undisclosed, fairly busy street in Hampden who has the freshest possible collection of home-grown lettuces, herbs and other treats displayed on their front patch of grass for passers-by to admire and the grower to eat. I walk by that house frequently on our (me and my darling daughters') afternoon stroll. The veggies and herbs are neatly packed into plastic and terra cotta pots/containers and look really healthy. If I didn't have mad respect for this urban farmer I would have sampled the produce weeks ago -- it looks soooo good!

If I had a thumb of green, I, too, would get on the grow-your-own bandwagon. Groceries are so frackin' expensive now that maybe farming our own food will soon become a necessity. Is it time to run to the hills? Is the end neigh? Should I fill my car's tank with french fry grease and pack an emergency kit full of snacks for toddlers and cat food? Whiskey and water for the grown-ups. I could start smoking again. You gotta smoke if you're heading for the safety of the middle of nowhere. People don't die of lung cancer before they are eaten by grizzly bears. The girls could grow up on the fat of the land and rock mad survival skills. Or maybe we'll just stay put and live on the two thriving basil and rosemary plants in our little back yard. Tap water doesn't taste so bad. We'll make do.