Well again! New-found health and the spanking Portraits Book made Grimsby a very happy place for me. I like to think that the relief that I felt in finding my voice and energy again, was comparable to the relief felt by the group of girls Coops and Andy found urinating by our van in an open car park during the interval of the first night. Group, mind. 

The shows were fine: the room has a tricky quality found in a few venues, where the front row of the audience is sat quite far away from the stage, and then the rows sweep back and back in a huge, high barn of a room. There are no balconies, so the 1300 seats just go back and back. The end result is that on stage, you barely hear any reaction from the audience, which can be a tiny bit demoralising. The lovely people are so far away, and the ceiling so high, that the sound just doesn’t reach me. Anyhow, they were all very polite at the end, cheered and stood in all the right places, so despite the acoustic setbacks, it was nice to know they enjoyed it. Thank you, Grimsbians. 

We had dinner after the second show in a truck stop near our hotel. A truck stop! Imagine that. We were looked after royally by the lovely Natalie (and Dawn in the kitchen), and we had bacon and eggs and beans and a sausage and wine: a delicious Shiraz chosen by Coops from the shelves of said truck stop. The rozzers then came in and those of us driving had to decline the wine in case they nicked us. I also took the opportunity to buy myself a ‘fashion hat’, which I’m wearing in the photo Coops took, as well as a 3CD set of Power Ballads for Jennie. That was a fun episode in our fun tour. 

We have been beset by other illnesses: Simon, our company manager, has managed to get proper ‘flu’, and today’s news is that Iain may be contracting the same nasty virus. I’m hoping it’s just the flimsy whoopsie-cold that I had and not the serious strain that has beset poor Simon, who has had to be replaced for a few days by a new man, Chris, whom we’re meeting soon. This feels like getting a new step-Dad (Simon Dodson = Dodders = Dadders = Dad, you see), so we hope that we like him. Simon, our real Dad, is quite wonderful. 

Please send your fondest well-wishes and heartfelt prayers to our ailing crew. We could all literally die.

x

Those of you coming to the Grimsby Auditorium tonight will be the first to see the new portrait book, which will be for sale in the foyer. I’m extremely, visibly excited: having painted as a hobby for many years, the idea of having my own published collection is beyond normal elation and makes me feel all warm and wet both inside and out. Whoever gets the first copy tonight, and I do hope it’s one of you bloggers who realises the profundity of his or her action or actions, will be buying the very very first copy ever, and I’m hard pushed to think of anything more feverishly intoxicating than that. Should you do so, be sure to let me know  and I shall sign it accordingly and you shall be my special favourite. (I may or may not be at stage door tonight, fingers crossed I will. Best to leave it at stage door with a note before the show to be absolutely safe)

Lucky you lot. 

Meanwhile, to cheer up the rest of you not lucky enough to be in Grimsby tonight, here is a brilliant new parody by the excellent team of Peter Serafinowicz and brother James, starring the lully Sarah Alexander. Now I happen to know these people a bit and they really are sensationally wonderful individuals. Have a roam around Pete’s sketches on the site – he is quite incredible.

Thank you, Oxford, for bearing with me last night. Feel terrible not being able to sign, but I think it’s working: I seem to be on the mend. Plenty of hot water, lemon and honey, liquorice, whisky, Nurses Day- and Night-, Lansoprazole (for nasty reflux), and a B12 in my arm yesterday afternoon. Getting there. Am now sat in a nice Grismby hotel – yes, they do exist – sipping further lemon/honey blandness with Mr. Coops. 

Sorry I missed some of you last night – thank you for the kind wishes sent along with objects to sign. Lemsip appreciated – blackcurrant too, nice move Rob: certainly tastier than the lemon. The Hot Berry and Orange ultimately gets my vote though. Harder to get, but sensational. 

A particular thank you to a chap who had flown over from the US to see the show and spoke very nicely to Coops afterwards. Appallingly rude to not be able to say hello in person. I hope the trip was worthwhile. 

I eagerly await that moment when you suddenly realise you’re back to full health – and the world bursts with colour once again. As it is, I look forward immensely to the shows even in poor health, as respite from the endless weariness, sweating and coughing. (At least from mine. I can’t do much about yours). 

Your well wishes are much appreciated, and thank you again for coming to see these shows where I haven’t been able to thank you personally afterwards.

Think I’ve put on a stone with all this honey. 

x

Firstly and above all, apologies to those of you who wanted to come and say hello after the show. My few days off were beset by some non-porcine plague, in the way that bodies tend to sieze upon any quiet lull after an extended onslaught of sustained activity in order to punish the bearer severely for working so hard. I dragged myself to last night’s first night in Oxford, found I had to do an interview and photo-shoot for the Times, which I thought, like a ‘nana, was due to happen today, and was then amazed that the first half of the show went well and that I found a voice that seemed strong enough, given that I could barely speak a word during the day. In the second act it suffered, which is worrying: a few coughs and a dip in vocal energy may not matter much to that night’s audience, but without getting a chance to rest, the voice can just suddenly go, leaving us having to cancel a show or two as we did the other year. 

So I had to skip signing, under sensible instruction from my company manager. Standing out in the cold talking and chatting is lethal for a damaged, suffering throat, so I hope any of you who were there can understand. A note was left on the door – if any of you have left anything for me to sign, I’ll see to them today, and you can come and grab them later on today – any time after 7.30 –  from the stage door. I doubt very much that I’ll be signing tonight either, I’m sorry. If you have books or things – even programmes if you turn up early – that you can drop round to stage door before the show, I’ll sign them straight after and leave them there for you to collect. But I’ll be running straight off for Lemsip and beddy-byes right after the show, so forgive me if I don’t get to scribble my moniker on programmes and tickets bought too close to start time. 

Please – anyone leaving anything – remember to put a note in with your full name on! 

Now, to cheer us all up, here are some videos of some of the crew at the afore-slagged Novotel in Wolverhampton, when the hour was late and we were all rather tired. Firstly, dancing to ‘Woman in Love’ which playing quietly on the in-ceiling speaker system (so turn up your volumes please), is our own lovely Jennie:

and then, never to be outdone (although he clearly is), is our own ‘handsome’ Iain. One for the ladeez:

I note that Iain’s head looks too big for his body in this film. Rest assured this is his normal appearance, and not a perspectival glitch of the camera’s lens. Hope to be better for Grimsby x

Derren has set up a chance for you to win some Alton Towers stuff – (OK Coops helped a bit too). Head over to the Competitions page and take a look or click here.