People preparing for a power cut almost always start with light, because light is the thing you notice first. In a cut lasting several days, light is the least of the four problems. Water, warmth and being able to reach someone all matter more, and a household plan that is mostly candles and lamps is a household plan with a hole in it.
Mains pressure often survives a power cut, but pumped supplies and anything above a few storeys may not, and a private borehole certainly will not. Keep drinking water stored in food-grade containers, rotated a few times a year, and fill the bath early if a long cut looks likely so you have water for flushing.
Most gas boilers need mains electricity for the pump and controls, so central heating usually stops with everything else. The answer is layers, a closed-off single room and good sleeping bags rather than any heater running on liquid fuel indoors. Never use a garden or camping appliance inside for heat.
Mobile masts have limited backup power, so signal can degrade over a long outage even when your phone is charged. A charged battery bank, a car charger and a simple battery radio cover most of it. Agree in advance which relative gets rung and at what time, so nobody wastes battery coordinating.
Torches for movement, battery lanterns for rooms, and a lamp or two for the table where people gather. Flame is the pleasant end of the system rather than the backbone. Retailers such as Lamplight sell lamps together with the flat wicks and sealed oil that make them practical, and buying the consumables at the same time is what separates a working lamp from an ornament.
Lamp oil is a serious poisoning hazard for small children, particularly because a swallowed mouthful can reach the lungs. Keep it in its original container with the child-resistant cap, locked or high up, and never decant it into a drinks bottle. If a child swallows any, ring your poisons centre or emergency services immediately and do not try to make them vomit.
Written down somewhere on paper: your electricity supplier’s fault line, the gas emergency number, your water company, and two relatives. A phone that has died takes the whole address book with it.
Turn the consumer unit off on a Saturday afternoon and live without it for three hours. You will find out which torch has corroded batteries, which lamp has a wick trimmed to a point, and whether anyone can actually find the kit. That is a cheaper lesson than discovering it in February at eleven at night.
