Time for a strim

I can't be in denial any longer.  I need a strimmer.  I made the first cut of the year the other day, and that's when the truth dawned on me. Quentin the qualcast push mower is a loyal friend, but his blades are no match for the tough grass, stones and weeds.   They are constantly getting jammed, and I am concerned at how much I am straining my feminine anatomy with the battle for tamed lawn. 

Mike my friendly fellow allotmenteer could see my plight and offered to show me how to use the scary allotment strimmer. I have always been rather wary of it, in the same way that I am wary of dogs.  It lives in the communal shed under lock and key, and is a man sized whirling dervish of a strimmer.  It reminds me of one of those staff-like weapons advanced martial arts people use.  Sometimes I see a person using it with a full helmet type mask on, making it look even more like a dangerous fighting tool.  Anyway, perhaps appearances are deceptive, and it is very kind of Mike to give me a demonstration.  He assures me that the shoulder straps take most of the weight. 

I've looked online at strimmers, and the most lightweight petrol ones are around 4kg.  I experimented with weighted doorstops, and even 2kg felt too heavy to me.  Perhaps I should install a goat on my plot instead.