Every year, we roam around the Christmas tree farm and find the perfect tree.  I loved it as a kid and I still love it as an adult. I grew up in suburbia, but now live on a farm in rural North Carolina, so my husband and I decided to dig up our tree for “first Christmases” and plant them on our farm. Our first year of marriage, each first Christmas for our daughters, we planted them along the creek.

 I will be honest, it was a huge pain, but worth the sentimental value. We would dig it up and wrap it in burlap, then put it in a huge galvanized tub with water.  Sometimes, I would have to use bricks to weigh down a side to keep it from falling on a kid, but it was such a lovely idea.  Somehow, I managed to keep them alive in the house and on the farm.

Then one day, we took a walk to look at our Christmas trees.  They were gone. Well, technically they weren’t gone, they were in the creek.  That’s right, of all the trees on our farm, the stinking’ beavers chewed down our Christmas trees.  You know, the same trees that I had worked so hard to keep alive? Yep, our sentimental “First Christmases” trees.

We still cut down a live tree every year, but we don’t attempt to replant them on the farm. Beavers! Who else has had a Christmas tradition sabotaged by beavers?!