In this beautiful tonal study of grey, we find Mr Farmhand in amongst the j-curves of antlers. Curiousity and family ties gets Mr Farmhand into some odd places. He was heard muttering something about the Aegean stables and why had ever agreed to work with Frank Winkler shifting this pile of Antlers. You cant see Frank as he has fallen through to the bottom of this pile, after arriving this morning with his balance slurred and his tie askew, saying excitedly that he had been up early meditating on Antlered States of Being. Mr Farmhand, after watching Frank's hoe flailing wildy about trying to get a grip on these polished points as he slid on the bottom of the heap, has not said a word but will no doubt keep digging till he gets to the bottom of it.