my hand be weary

oy, my weary left hand...
Went to S. T.'s to sign 300 signature sheets for ye forthcoming special hardcover edition of his anthology, THE RED BRAIN--GREAT TALES OF THE CTHULHU MYTHOS, in which my story "Pickman's Lazarus" appears. He and Mary had a special gift for me--ye kitty cat holiday shirt pictur'd above (with my oldest cat, China, looking on). It's very pleasant when ye friends one visits are also cat lovers. They have three cats. I have six, and the lad who rents my basement has another. I spend gobs of $$$$ on litter.
Signing signature sheets is probably the moft boring aspect of being a publish'd writer. It just gets so boring, having to sign your signature hundreds of time. S. T. is super-fast at signing; I am not, and when I try to keep up with him my signature becomes chaotic. So he is finish'd and sits patiently while I am plodding along.
Ye great reward is that S. T.'s charming wife, Mary, always makes a marvelous dinner for after ye signing is finish'd. So although my hand be weary, my stomach is well pleas'd.
Hope ye new year is treating all of ye well.