We have had a slight inkling of how badly-equipped we are to cope with the impending apocalypse that will doubtless cause our fragile society to revert to the Dark Ages.

We had a power cut and didn’t have any matches in the house.

I’d quite forgotten what power cuts were like – my vague memories of the 1970s recalling Nationwide suddenly blinking off and the scuttle to light candles. And that was about the size of the problem, because back in those dim days, we didn’t actually have much other than the telly that required electricity, a statement which will have younger readers slightly agog.

But when the first of our two power cuts in two weeks came, the house was brought pretty much to a standstill. The boiler is plugged in, so the heating went off. We couldn’t light the gas hob because it has an electric ignition. No telly, of course, no computer, no stereo. No microwave, no clock radio, no nowt.

Mrs B had just returned home after picking up the children to find they couldn’t have any tea and couldn’t watch CBBC, which rather turned their world upside down. Worse than that, of course, was the aforementioned lack of matches.

We did, of course, have lots of candles, but that was more due to never wanting to leave Ikea empty-handed rather than any attempt at emergency forward-planning.

Fortunately, our neighbours, imbued with Blitz spirit, provided us with some matches to light the candles.

The second power cut came this week, fortunately in the morning when we were all out at work and school, so the only real problem was having to reset all the electric clocks scattered about the house.

Power cuts are something that we’ve generally learned to live without, and despite mumblings from the authorities about “overhead wires”, no proper explanation has yet been forthcoming, nor any indication whether we’re going to have more outages over the coming weeks.

I have, however, decided to (when I get round to it, of course – hey, the Christmas tree is still by the wheelie bin) implement an Emergency Planning Committee in the house, and the first meeting, with myself, has resolved to set up a Disaster Kit. This will include some candles, some matches, a torch, emergency rations (some Bourbon creams and a big packet of crisps) and possibly one of those wind-up radios.

Thus, come the Mad Max future in which we all wear leather and battle in a blasted post-apocalyptic wilderness for oil and water, the Barnett household shall be fully-prepared to survive the End Times.

In fact, I might keep hold of that Christmas tree. Some of the branches would whittle down into excellent arrows should I have to start hunting for food.