Nov. 5, 1931-April 9, 2011
MERIDIAN — Dale Z Dalley, 79, of Meridian, Idaho, a former resident of Rupert, passed away in his home Saturday, April 9, 2011.
Dale was born Nov. 5, 1931, in Rigby, Idaho, to Lowell and Zelda Zobell Dalley. He was raised in Driggs, Idaho, with his brother, Duane, and sister, Linda Lee. He earned a bachelor’s degree in animal husbandry and chemistry from Utah State University. He was an ROTC graduate and served as a captain in the U.S. Army in Anchorage, Alaska. He married Valene Mitchell of Nyssa, Ore., in the Idaho Falls temple on June 25, 1965. They resided in Rupert, Idaho, where they raised seven children. Dale was well known for his sourdough and Dutch oven cooking and for his tremendous sense of humor. He was a lifelong member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served a mission with his wife in the Washington D.C. Temple.
Dale is survived by his wife, Valene; his son, Caleb (Mindy) Dalley and their children, Benjamin, Mitchell, Gavin, Julia and Trevor of Houma, La.; six daughters, EvaLu (Marty) Hale and their children, Curtis (Jessie), Tyler, Heather and Wesley of Meridian, Rachel (Joe) Quatrone and their children, Daniel, Frank, Nicholas and Samuel of Bellevue, Wash., Deborah (Jason) Blacker and their children, Crystal, Erin and Camden of Vancouver, Wash., Jennifer Louviere and her children, Claire and Andre of Bellingham, Wash., Amber (Wade) Bergstrom and their children, Miley and Jacob of Middleton, and Sheila (Matt) Brown of Kuna. He is also survived by his brother, Duane (Ruby) Dalley of Santa Clara, Calif. He was preceded in death by his infant daughter, Esther Elaine Dalley; his parents, Lowell and Zelda Dalley; and his sister, Linda Lee (George) Schick.
The funeral will be held at 11 a.m. Thursday, April 14, at the Cloverdale Ward Building of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 190 S. Locust Grove in Meridian. A viewing will be held from 5 to 6:30 p.m. Wednesday, April 13, and 9:30 to 10:45 a.m. prior to the funeral Thursday at the same location.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Spring
Spring was always an exciting time in Rupert. Dad would haul out the rototiller and plow up the ginormous garden. I mean, this garden was huge! I would like to say it was a full acre, but it probably wasn't quite that large. Close, though.
After the garden was tilled, we would all pitch in to help plant the crops for the year. Dad would put a stick in at the end of each intended row. Then he would tie a string to either end, thereby giving us a guide for the row. He, or one of us would then use a hoe to create a furrow.
Peas usually went in first - and I remember that Dad would have them coated with some type of fertilizer. All of us kids would take a can of peas and follow the string, place peas in the soft dirt.
We would do the same with beans, corn, carrots, dill, onions, and potatoes. Though with potatoes you don't actually plant seeds. You plant portions of a potato. Each of those eye-thingys on the potato has the potential to become it's own plant.
Tomatoes...that was a different story. We would go to one of the greenhouses in town, or sometimes Twin Falls, and take home several flats of tomato plants. Each one would be carefully place in the soft soil, placed in deep enough that the soil would cover it's bottom leaves.
I really liked planting season. I liked the smell of the air. I liked how the dark soil felt on my hands and feet. (Yes, I was generally barefoot.) I liked seeing all the plants come back to life. The forsythia with it's brilliant yellow, the overly fragrant lilacs. But my favorite was always the wild yellow roses that grew at the bottom of the garden. As a teen, I took it upon myself to prune them every spring. Trying to encourage the best growth possible.
When I was younger, spring might also mean baby animals. But that's an entirely different story.
After the garden was tilled, we would all pitch in to help plant the crops for the year. Dad would put a stick in at the end of each intended row. Then he would tie a string to either end, thereby giving us a guide for the row. He, or one of us would then use a hoe to create a furrow.
Peas usually went in first - and I remember that Dad would have them coated with some type of fertilizer. All of us kids would take a can of peas and follow the string, place peas in the soft dirt.
We would do the same with beans, corn, carrots, dill, onions, and potatoes. Though with potatoes you don't actually plant seeds. You plant portions of a potato. Each of those eye-thingys on the potato has the potential to become it's own plant.
Tomatoes...that was a different story. We would go to one of the greenhouses in town, or sometimes Twin Falls, and take home several flats of tomato plants. Each one would be carefully place in the soft soil, placed in deep enough that the soil would cover it's bottom leaves.
I really liked planting season. I liked the smell of the air. I liked how the dark soil felt on my hands and feet. (Yes, I was generally barefoot.) I liked seeing all the plants come back to life. The forsythia with it's brilliant yellow, the overly fragrant lilacs. But my favorite was always the wild yellow roses that grew at the bottom of the garden. As a teen, I took it upon myself to prune them every spring. Trying to encourage the best growth possible.
When I was younger, spring might also mean baby animals. But that's an entirely different story.
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