The limits of my language are the limits of my world.
If I told you I was feeling all cobobbled, would you have an inkling of what I meant?
I suspect you would.
All cobobbled.
That’s how I felt when I woke up at 3 a.m.
It was the first word that came to me.
Except cobobbled isn’t in the dictionary. I know. I looked it up.
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This post is part of my 33 Days in Europe series. Visit the hub page to …