So I picked the jar of black lentils up off the shelf, and set them defiantly on the kitchen counter. This may not be a typical show of audacity, but it was for me.

Because even as I had been turning to walk over to my set of shelves shoved full of cookbooks and dry-goods mason jars, I was thinking about how I should maybe just wait and use these black lentils another time. I mean, yes, I was in the middle of making a recipe that actually called for them, which is not very common, but it would be easy to substitute a brown or red lentil since, while rather different to cook, they weren’t crucial to the structure of the dish and it’s just for our family anyway. What if I’m making a trickier dish for company where I really need black lentils? I only have this little bit and they’re not easy to find.

Amanda, Amanda. I had literally been ruminating about this upcoming article as I chopped carrots and kale just minutes ago, planning to write about the idea of spend-it September. USE THE LENTILS. They’ve been sitting there behind the flaxseeds and red beans for approximately forever, frittering away their lives (and usability before drying off into uncookable rocks) as I wait for the right moment to both a. remember them and b. actually use them.

Hence came my inner defiance as I shook off my unwarranted hesitancy and grabbed the jar — I was going to spend them. The lentils made a rewarding ping-ping-ping as they tumbled into the saucepan.

This concept of Spend-it September was new to me, introduced by a “Happier with Gretchen Rubin” podcast episode. We’ve likely all heard of, and perhaps participated in, monthly endeavors like No-shave November and Dry January; we also can have No-spend February and its counterpart, Do-spend September.

We of course can make the spending motivation as broad as we want; it’s just an idea to help guide some of our actions. And it is a helpful one for me: I mentioned recently I’m always saving mangos and other “special” things, which isn’t bad, but does need the balancing side of actually using things as well.

So saying yes to spending in September might look like lighting the candle even though it’ll burn down, wearing that special-occasion dress instead of leaving it in the closet to stay nice, getting out the fancy teacups as they do no one any good in storage. Spend the gift cards and the vacation days — the whole point is to use them. Spend time in other areas of your house, like on the porch or in that chair by the window, and make use of neglected appliances, like ice cream makers and waffle irons. Sometimes it might include money, like finally investing in that thing you’ve been needing or even buying a small indulgence.

I’ve been trying to channel this mindset at various times throughout the month, and have enjoyed the outworkings: pulling out that easy freezer enchilada meal, drinking my last peach sparkling water, making use of that frozen roast lamb, and of course, cutting up a mango and breaking into that stashed bar of dark chocolate.

And those lentils? They cooked up deliciously, especially in that extra-good bone broth I decided to use up, too.

September’s Spendy Scoops

This is much more a concept than a recipe, same as the idea of do-spend September — make it your own. I assume we all have these little things around the house that we need to just pull out and enjoy, but even if you aren’t a saver like me, you can still be a savor-er and appreciate a good bowl of epic ice cream. (Or, if you’re like Brian, just plain ice cream.)

Prep tips: my toppings were a small bottle of date syrup, the last of the cinnamon-toasted pistachios, a couple banana chips someone had given my kids, and some expensive chocolate protein cereal I had gotten on sale.

• a couple scoops of that small-batch ice cream: coffee for us
• a rich and sweet drizzle
• a handful of nuts, saved but not for so long they turned rancid
• a shower of special crispy things
• perhaps a fruity element, if it fits

Layer and/or nestle into your ice cream bowls as desired. Savor, being glad you had the special things and glad you’re getting to enjoy them.

Lettuce Eat Local is a weekly local foods column by Amanda Miller, who lives in rural Reno County on the family dairy farm with her husband and three small children. She seeks to help build connections through food with her community, the earth, and the God who created it all. Send feedback and recipe ideas to hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.