Greetings, @cinnccf. Today, Sunday, a cloudy and cool day, seems excellent for me to write about coffee.

To my grandfather Andres, I always remember him reading in his wooden ture with white canvas, under the Apamates in bloom, in front of the Casa Vieja, with a book in one hand and in the other a cup of coffee in the other.

My family has a tradition with coffee, since always. From the paternal and maternal grandparents and the coffee stories about their grandparents, my great-grandparents. That anticipates that since I was very young my relationship with coffee has been like a prophecy. Even my son Andres, since he was a little boy, my mother used to give him black coffee with bread and butter. In Venezuela, that is a true family tradition.

My mother liked coffee guayoyo and sweet; on the contrary, I have always liked black coffee, well loaded. When I lived in my mother's house, to defend the right of every good coffee drinker, I bought my coffee maker and my coffee so I could make and drink it as often as I wanted and how I wanted. I had that duo in my room, well kept and always ready.

I love coffee and all the utensils that are around such an ancient tradition. Although I have my favorite cup; in our house there is never a lack of cups and coffee pots. Both electric and stove top.

As well as thermoses. Large, medium and small, depending on the occasion and the number of attendees.

My relationship with caffeine.

A few months ago I started intermittent fasting. They recommend drinking tea, infusions and coffee, all without sugar. There was a week when I had 20 hours without eating, I think I abused coffee, in a week of hard work, and I began to feel dizziness, tachycardia and restlessness; as I am used to coffee and always slept well and never had insomnia, I did not relate it to caffeine ... until the third day, I was curious and consulted the symptoms on Google: it was excess caffeine. As well as low water intake and the impact of many hours of fasting.