It’s remarkable that despite the conveniences of modern technology, some people still choose to use outdated tools and methods. Consider the example of a 67-year-old man who has dedicated his efforts to constructing an intricate cave system, demonstrating that age is no barrier to undertaking ambitious projects.
With limited financial means, he has poured his heart into this work, employing only simple tools like a shovel and a cart. Although he does not have a formal education, he takes pride in his craftsmanship and believes that others will recognize the quality of his work.
When he started digging in 1987, he could not have imagined that his creation would gain such fame and acclaim, adorned with a variety of artifacts on its walls. The stunning beauty of his caves, known as Ra Paulet’s caverns, makes it difficult to assign a financial value to them.
To date, he has completed 14 caves and is currently working on his 15th, which he claims will surpass all his previous efforts. For more information, check out the video below.
My Cousin Brags about Her ‘Achievements’ Despite Owing Me $5,000 – I Thought About Taking Action, but Karma Took Care of It for Me
When my cousin crashed our rental car, leaving me with a $5,000 bill, I spent months trying to get her to pay me back. Just as I gave up, I saw her flaunting her ‘success’ on social media and discovered I wasn’t the only one she owed. Karma caught up to her, and I got a front-row seat!
It’s been a year since that disastrous West Coast holiday, and I still feel the sting of that $5,000 debt. My cousin Debra, who’s supposed to be an accountant, racked up a huge damage charge on our rental car and then had the audacity to act like it wasn’t her problem.
It was under my name, so guess who got stuck with the bill? That’s right, me. Lisa, the ever-reliable project manager from Boston. I swear, some days I think my middle name should be “Doormat.”
I remember that holiday like it was yesterday. Seven of us cousins decided to get together for some “family bonding” out on the West Coast.
Debra was there, of course, with her charismatic charm and reckless attitude. One evening, she decided it would be a fantastic idea to drive the rental car down a narrow, winding coastal road at night.
The air was crisp, the moonlight casting eerie shadows as she sped along the road, ignoring my pleas to slow down.
“Come on, Lisa, live a little!” Debra laughed, her voice filled with reckless glee.
She cranked up the music and took another swig from her bottle. I clutched the seat, my knuckles white.
“Debra, please, you’re going too fast!” I yelled, my heart pounding.
She just laughed harder, taking a sharp turn way too quickly. My heart stopped as the car skidded toward the edge, tires screeching.
I thought we were all going to die that night, but the guardrail saved us. The impact when we slammed into it was jarring, leaving us all stunned and the car a complete wreck.
The holiday mood? Completely ruined.
When the rental company slapped a $5,000 damage charge on the car, Debra just shrugged.
“We’re family,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand. “We should all pitch in.”
The other cousins mumbled vague agreements.
“Maybe we can split it evenly,” suggested Jimmy, the peacemaker of the group.
“Split it? Are you kidding? I wasn’t even in the car,” retorted Martha, crossing her arms.
“I can’t afford that right now,” mumbled Jake, avoiding eye contact.
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