Field Trip

A new Montana resident sent me a note the other day.

She had purchased some beef at my farmers market booth and loved it.

Her note said she was a member of a homeschoolers’ group and she wanted to arrange a field trip to my ranch.

I replied “Sure!” knowing 95 percent of the people who talk about coming to the ranch don’t make it. Like most ranchers, it’s easier for me to be nice if I think I won’t really need to follow through.

She was one of the few who actually picked a day. She said she would invite the other homeschooling mothers.

Then my email paused for a week so I didn’t hear from her.

Until she called.

The likelihood of hosting homeschoolers grew.

I looked at the ranch. Dry winds and grasshoppers do not improve the landscape.

I looked at my to-do list – wean calves, wean lambs, haul hay and keep the sheep out of the neighbors’ winter wheat.

None of those jobs was conducive to help from untrained children.

But I had agreed to this visit.

The field trip organizer said I didn’t need to entertain them; the kids would enjoy just running wild and free all over the ranch.

Visions of stampeding cattle, busted fences and broken-legged horses flashed through my mind.

“No,” I said. “I will entertain you.”

We agreed that they would visit from 3 to 5 p.m.

One mother and daughter arrived at noon.

Apparently, Facebook mismarked the event invitation.

Both of us were annoyed.

But the 6-year-old was sweet, smart and game for anything. We found eggs and visited with the chickens and cats in the barn.

At noon, I had been wondering how I would rescue the pickup I had stupidly high-centered the day before.

At the barn, a lightbulb flashed before my eyes.

I had another driver.

Climbing on some cool rock outcrops turned a job into an adventure.

And I heard the rest of the story about this family.

Life at home was chaos. The mom was desperate to distract her daughter from the situation.

A few hours of my time was a cheap price to pay to help that little girl find a smile.

The mother and daughter left just as the main group arrived.

Four boys spanning 4 to 13, one 6-year- old girl, one toddler and three moms, all of them ready to run, shout and ask questions.

“What year is that truck?”

“Look at this cool rock!”

“Can I take this bone home?”

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“How much do you want for it?”

My head spun as I sorted prices of trucks, rocks, bones and bathrooms.

Another trip to the barn was in order.

The calves in the corral jumped at the thundering herd coming around the corner, but the corral held up.

One guest caught a kitten and let it snuggle in his sweatshirt.

I pretended I would miss the kitten if he took it home.

The horses stopped by for treats.

The kids needed to run and I had the answer.

It was time to bring the sheep from a mile away.

Those short legs would take a lot of steps in a mile.

Everyone piled in the back of the pickup for a one-way ride out and the option of an emergency lift back in.

An hour later, the sheep were in bed.

I was exhausted.

Later, I received a note that said “Lisa, I wanted to thank you for the most amazing time. It was one of the best field trips we have ever done, and that’s saying something!”

That earthshaking surprise made the constant confusion, mind-spinning questions and head counts worth every moment.