An open source software skin for your weewx weather station software.
In the beginning, there was darkness.
And in the darkness, there was fear—fear because the people knew not when the winds would howl, the lightning would strike, or the storms would rage. Oh, they had their learned men, men who dressed in robes of great importance, who gathered powerful instruments to collect the sacred data, using words, arcane words that the people knew not, such mumbo jumbo as dew point, air pressure, humidity and wind speed. But the data was with out form, scattered, and beyond understanding. But, whilst the learned men labored over their numbers and charts, their divinations were flawed, their prognostications mere whispers in the void. And the people cried out in despair, the women, exasperated, scoffed, “Would we not have a better chance reading the leaves of our tea or the entrails of a wombat?” And the men, in their wisdom, replied, “The instruments are good and powerful, and we are wise, but the storage of the data is absolute shite.”
And the people did wail and rent thier clothing and placed sackcloth upon thier bodies and covered themselves in ashes as they cried, "Are we now forsaken? Our learned men are shite, the tea is expensive and the wombats are on strike! Are we doomed to step in errant puddles of muddy water with our freshly polished shoes?" They wrung thier hands, clothed in ashes and sack cloth, while errant thoughts of soggy shoes invaded thier minds. But lo! In the void, a voice spoke. "Let there be a program that can be used to gather together the data from the great instruments and store it for clear and concise reporting." The people stirred as the voice reverberated around them, questioning "What is this.... program?" And the voice replied "It is a program that can be used to gather together the data from the great instruments and store it for clear and concise reporting." And the people asked, "What will this do for us?" And the voice replied, "It will allow for prognostications that are both....", the voice paused dramatically, "accurate, AND timely!!!"
The men and women of the darkness looked around, seeing no one and nowhere for this voice to have come from. "And what will this do for us? Will it protect us from Demons of the Inner Circles of Hell? Will it stop the unexpected lights and noises from terrorizing our children? Will it protect our freshly polished shoes from errant puddles of muddy water and preserve our butter without refrigeration?" The voice cleared it's throat and responded, "Yes and MORE!" And thus, did a dim light came forth in the distance and slowly did a man appear, dressed in the vestments of his trade; an old, eye bleeding hawaiian shirt, done in neon orange, green and pink, wearing upon his girth a pair of wrinkled bermuda shorts, his pasty white legs encased in a pair of white knee high socks and flip flops. He did wear the most Holy of Holies upon his face, the thick, black rimmed, Eyeglasses of All Seeing (Sacred Upon All Nerds). He came carrying the instruments of his trade, the Tape of Paper Programming, the Reel of Magnetic Tape of Storage, in one pocket, and the Cards of Punch Learning, the Disks of Floppy (Of both the Largest and the Smallest, for he was of great power) in another, and stack of Printouts of the Dot Matrix, on which All Knowledge is Recorded, in one hand. And thus did he show them the program and demonstrate upon them that it did, indeed, collect all data in a timely and organized manner.
And the people fell before him, in awe and wonder, crying out praises for his genius. They fawned over him, speaking in hushed tones of his mastery of the arcane symbols, his unparalleled command of code. And they looked upon him, averting their eyes, crying out "It is amazing and does as is foretold and prevents muddy shoes." And the man looked around blankly, adjusting his Eyeglasses of All-Seeing, and stated, “Well, duh. I wrote it.” as if that was the most obvious thing. And thus, the software was born, with the potential to save the people from the demons of the night, acne, and melted butter. But lo! There was still a problem. For while the program—weewx—was powerful, only the learned men, the keepers of arcane knowledge, could interpret its cryptic signs and sacred symbols. The data was vast, but its wisdom was hidden behind indecipherable scrolls of logs, raw outputs, and CSV files.
And thus, in times of need, great heroes are born and thus, did these heroes come together, these Three, and who vowed to create an interface for the people, by the people, and of the people. They toiled in the molten-hot forges of code, hammering out dashboards and refining tables, sweating over usability and accessibility. Their fingers danced furiously over keyboards through the long, dark hours, powered only by cold pizza and the sacred fuel of all late-night creation: tepid Mountain Dew. And through their trials and tribulations, they crafted an interface so divine, so wondrous, that even the least of the people could gaze upon the sacred data and understand. And they named it DivumWX. For "Divum" means "of the heavens"—a gift from above, a divine tool to illuminate the truth. And the people rejoiced, for at last, they could see. They could know. They could predict the rains before their polished shoes became wet.
And it was good.