A forecast written for people who work outside, built only for post-frame and barndominium builders — so the trades it scores are the ones on your sites. It leads with the numbers that actually stop work — gust speed, the hour the rain starts, tonight's low, and the rain already on the ground — and turns them into a plain call for each trade: lifting, roofing, concrete, framing, paint and ground. It is on your dashboard, on every project, and on every crew member's phone. And it does not forget: every morning, each job's record gains yesterday's measured weather, scored against the same limits, beside the work that was scheduled — evidence you can print when a finish date is disputed.
Also called: weather · forecast · job site weather · workability · wind gusts · weather module · weather history · weather delay log · weather delay documentation
Gusts, not wind speed — and the heat the sun icon hides
Trusses go up on gusts, not on the sustained average every forecast leads with. So the gust figure gets its own box, at the top, where it cannot be missed. Alongside it sits what a clear-sky icon never tells you: the feels-like, the UV, and any severe-weather warning in force.
The wind number everyone quotes is an average, and averages do not knock a truss out of a sling.
A sustained wind of 12 mph reads as a calm day. If it is gusting 40, it is a no-lift day. Burying that in a row of statistics is how it gets missed, so it is the second-largest thing on the panel. For the crew it is simpler than that: nobody wants to be the man holding a sheet when the gust comes, and a number they can see is one they will act on without being told twice.
Six trades, scored separately — with the reason
Good for framing, bad for roofing, great for lifting: three answers from one forecast. So each trade is scored on the numbers that stop that trade, and each verdict states the reason — "Roofing · gusts 29 mph — sheets will fly", "Concrete · high 95° — flash set, pour early" — because a red dot with no reason gets ignored by the second week on site.
One score for the whole site tells the roofer and the concrete crew the same thing on a day it means opposite things to them.
A single 0-100 "workability score" would have to average six different trades, and an average is wrong for everybody. Steel roofing stops in wind long before framing does; concrete cares about tonight's low and nothing else does. A reason the crew can repeat to each other is a call they trust — and a crew that trusts the panel stops arguing with the foreman about the sky.
"Dry until 2 PM" — not "60% chance"
A percentage is not a decision. The hour it starts is. The panel reads forward from now — not from midnight, because a 6 AM answer is useless at 2 PM — and says the one thing anyone acts on. Where the wind is what is stopping work, it names the workable stretch instead: "Workable 3PM–7PM · gusts 19 mph."
"60% chance of rain" gives a foreman no way to decide whether to open a roof up this morning.
Hour-by-hour detail is carried for today and tomorrow, where it changes a decision. Nobody schedules a pour off hour nine of day eleven, and the accuracy at that range would not support it. An hour gives the foreman something to plan around, which feels like control instead of a coin toss — and a planned morning is a morning the crew does not stand around.
Every job carries its own site forecast
Open a project and the weather at that address is at the top of it — not the yard's. Jobs an hour apart routinely have different days, and one of them can be a hard stop while the other is merely a caution.
The office schedules three crews off one forecast taken at the shop.
The site address is resolved from the project itself and never travels in a link, because a job site address is a customer's home address. The office stops guessing for crews it cannot see, and a crew sent to a dry site never feels sent there blind.
On the crew's phone, above the clock-in button
The crew portal opens with a single weather bar: what it is doing, how hard it is blowing, and the one trade that is stopped. Tap it and the full forecast opens with the 1, 3 and 14-day views; tap it again to close. It shows the site they are clocked into, and puts their own stage's call first.
The men who most need to know the gusts are the ones furthest from a desk.
It stays collapsed by default because that page has one job — the clock-in button — and a full forecast would push it below the fold on a phone. The other five trades stay visible underneath, because the panel is worth most at the moment their own trade is stopped and something else is workable. The men at the top of the ladder get the answer without asking for it, which is the difference between a warning that is heeded and one that is relayed late.
Today, three days, or a fortnight
One tap switches between today, the next three days and the next fourteen. Each row carries the day's worst call as a single dot, the gusts, the highs and lows, and the rain chance once it is worth knowing — so a week of work can be laid out against the weather in one glance.
Scheduling a month of pours and roof days against a forecast you have to look up one day at a time.
All three views are slices of one forecast fetched once, so switching between them costs nothing. Laying the fortnight out in one glance takes the dread out of Sunday-night scheduling — you see the bad days coming instead of discovering them.
What the weather already did, kept on every job
Open a project and under its forecast sits Weather history. Closed, it already tells you what the weather cost the schedule: 2 days stopped, 2 hindered, 1 crew-reported, 17 days recorded. Nobody had to write anything down — yesterday's weather is added every morning, for every active job with a site address, back-filled from the first scheduled day the first time it is opened.
What the weather cost a job lives in a foreman's head, and by the time the finish date is disputed he remembers "a lot of rain in September".
A record that keeps itself is the only kind a busy builder actually has when he needs it. And the owner stops carrying the nagging feeling that he will one day have to prove a delay he can only remember — the proof is already filed, job by job.
Each day: what fell, what it stopped, what it slowed
Try itOpen the card and every day that mattered is listed: what the weather did — high, low, rain, gusts — which scheduled work it stopped or hindered and why ("Roof steel — stopped: 0.62 in of rain — wet steel"), and what the crew reported from the field. A Saturday with nothing scheduled still shows up when the weather would have stopped a trade. Flip to Every day for the quiet days too.
"It rained a lot" loses an argument that "0.62 inches on the 30th stopped the roof steel" wins.
A date, an amount and the named work it stopped read as a fact, where a builder's word reads as an excuse. Customers and lenders accept a delay much faster when they can see the day it happened — and the builder stops feeling defensive in a conversation he has the records for.
Measured at the stations, judged by the same limits as the forecast
The record is built from weather-station observations near the site — never the yard — and scored by the same trade limits that drew the forecast panel and the crew's evening warning. Roofing stops on measured rain or gusts that lift steel; concrete on a freezing low or rain on a fresh pour; lifting on high gusts or lightning. A trace of drizzle is not a lost roofing day; a tenth of an inch is.
A delay log written by hand is whatever the person writing it thought was bad weather.
When the warning the crew got the night before and the record kept afterwards use one rulebook, they cannot disagree — and nobody can say you decided after the fact what counted as a stop. Printing the method beside the result moves the argument from your judgement to the weather.
An evidence report you can hand over
Evidence report opens a clean, printable page — print it or save it as a PDF. The site, the period, the days scheduled work was stopped and hindered, the days with work-stopping weather, the days the crew reported a weather stop, and every weather event with what it did to the work. It closes with where the numbers came from and where the official station record can be requested if a dispute goes formal.
The customer's lender disputes the finish date and all you have is a phone full of photos of puddles.
A dated document with sources looks like a record, not an excuse, so the conversation ends sooner — and the builder walks into it calm, because the paperwork is already done. For the business that is a delay that does not turn into a discount.
Every day as a spreadsheet
CSV downloads the whole record: one row per day, with the measurements, the data source and stations, the scheduled work, its effect, and all six trade calls in their own columns — lifting, roofing, concrete, framing, finish and site. Hand it to a lawyer, a lender or a bookkeeper and they can sort it and check it themselves. It sits beside the crew's own hold-ups in delay reporting.
Your lawyer wants the numbers in a spreadsheet, and a screenshot is not a spreadsheet.
People trust data they can sort and check for themselves far more than a summary somebody hands them. Giving it over raw says you have nothing to hide — and it saves the office an afternoon of retyping.
- 1Gusts, not wind speed — a 12 mph day gusting 40 is a no-lift day and looks calm
- 2"Dry until 2 PM" instead of a percentage, so you know whether to open a roof this morning
- 3Six trades scored separately, each carrying the number that decided it
- 4Tonight's low for concrete — a pour at 3° that freezes at 4 AM is a failed pour
- 5Rain already on the ground, three days back, because that is what decides whether a machine sinks
- 6Severe weather warnings — heat, flood, wind, storm — carried straight through
- 7Every project has its own site forecast; two jobs two hundred miles apart are two different days
- 8On the crew's phone, above the clock-in button, showing the site they are clocked into
- 9Today re-scores through the day, so a 4 PM answer is not the morning's answer
- 10Every morning, yesterday's measured weather is added to each active job — from weather stations near the site, not the yard
- 11Each recorded day is scored against the same trade limits as the forecast, beside the work the schedule had that day: stopped, hindered, or untouched
- 12The crew's own "Blocked — weather" reports sit on the same day
- 13Evidence report prints the record with the stations, distances and method; CSV exports every day
A builder does not need to be told the weather. He is standing in it. What he cannot see by looking up is whether the day's plan still works — and that is a different set of numbers than any general forecast leads with. Take a real morning at a yard in Missouri. The forecast icon says clear and the temperature says 96°. What the sun does not say: there is an active Heat Advisory, the feels-like peaks at 99°, the UV hits 8, and the gusts run 25 in the morning and fall to 16 by evening. So the cool hours are the windy ones and the calm hours are the dangerous ones. A crew reading the sun icon puts men on a steel roof at the worst hour of the day. That is the whole reason this exists. General forecasts answer "what is it like out?" — a question already answered by stepping outside. This answers "can we set trusses, can we pour, can we get the steel down?"
- A crew is sent to a site on a day their trade cannot work
- A pour goes down before a night that drops below freezing
- A workable afternoon is written off because the morning looked bad
- Wind gusts are invisible behind a calm-looking sustained wind speed
- The office cannot see that two jobs have completely different weather
- Weather delays argued from memory instead of records
- No dated proof of which scheduled work the weather stopped
