Clear, Cool, Dry and Sunny

"Say that again." The Bishop commanded, disbelief in his voice.

"'63°F, Clear. Wind West at 0 mph. Humidity, 45%'" I repeated, reading from the report.

"It's supposed to be a mosquito infested, water saturated, sun-broiled hell-hole this time of year. What's going on!" The Bishop looked around amazed.

"Galactic climate change." The Lizard stated as a matter of fact, bending to sniff a carissa blossom.

We both turned to her, smiled, and I added "Well, such an event calls for a galaxy sized beer!"