Changes we missed--fortunately.

"That one's had a barn conversion, and so has that one," was the frequent comment from the front seat as we sped through the Cheshire countryside recently on our way to Tim's Uncle Reg's birthday bash.

Farm after dignified farm flashed past our eyes as we travelled along familiar roads; only they are not, apparently, farming any more. The buildings have been tarted up and smart front doors replace old parlour exits. Such a shame.

Uncle Reg is largely responsible for setting Tim off down the farming route. His earliest muck-related memories, as well as helping out at his Nan's farm, are of milking for Reg in the holidays and at weekends on his smallholding in Haslington.

I remember, going back over 30 years to the days before we were married, Tim working as a lab technician and doing the milking at Haslington when Reg broke his leg. I also recall sitting in his and his wife Barbara's front room, putting my feet up and reading some good books when I was pregnant with Cherry.

Then we travelled past the roads where I used to live, and my little primary school, heading for dinner with lots of familiar faces, some we hadn't seen for years. Reg has just turned 80, but you wouldn't guess it.

The whole weekend turned into a trip down memory lane. We even found time to visit Pete, who was Tim's best man, and who we recently made contact with again after losing touch over 20 years ago.

He is affectionately referred to as "Pete who bangs in the shed", because he used to come and use our garden hut to produce wildly-imaginative wood carvings during Tim's time as herdsman at Reaseheath College.

I can still hear the loud noise he made in the process, then the amazing results; we still have one of his sticks. We paid a quick visit, not enough to catch up on everything, but enough to whet our appetites for when he comes to visit us in the summer.

A pair of wellies are always in the boot of the car, and a farm walk and a chat is the perfect way to clear the head, so we enjoyed a visit to Reg's son, Ainsley, and his organic beef set-up on a Cheshire County Council farm. (We, in fact, had our name down on Cheshire County Council's list for a smallholding until Tim went to manage a place in Sanquhar back in 1981.)

Driving round our old hunting ground (literally) to check out his terrain, Ainsley pointed out other enterprises taken on by youngsters (encouraging) and those farms amalgamated or sold off (less so).

It was the same countryside, if a little light on stock in the fields compared with when we left. We called into a farm shop which sells Ainsley's beef. His sausages are delicious, so watch out, Tom Archer.

Tim's home town of Nantwich has changed dramatically, with housing estates mushrooming all over the place. We were easily lost there.

As we left for the long trek home, it was interesting to ponder on where we would be now if Tim had taken on a Cheshire smallholding and not ventured over the border to Scotland, which, in turn, led us out here to France. Such a memorable weekend.

Chrissie Green and her husband, Tim, rent 175ha (432 acres) in the heart of Normandy.

* The business includes 90 milking cows and 350 ewes.

* The couple have been living in France since 1983.

* They originally went to France to manage Vimer for Formers Weekly, but now run it in their own right.

* They have three grown-up daughters and one grandson.

* Chrissie teaches English on a full-time basis.

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Edited by Tim Reif