The little cabin in the woods I lived in when I met my hubby was so tiny. It was under 400 sq. ft., and essentially one room with a pony wall running down the middle.
The wall had two opening in it, which actually helped the house feel larger. The front was the "living room". The back was my bedroom/kitchen/bathroom. The refrigerator was literally at the foot of my bed. The front room was all windows from about three feet off the ground to the ceiling.
And this is the view those windows gave me every day. The house was tiny, but the yard was literally a field. The house seemed huge when I let the shades up. 
The house wasn't exactly luxury living. There was a ton of wildlife and flooding to deal with. But it was a wonderful house for that period in my life. It also reminds me that I can be happy with very little in my possession. That keeps me grounded when I start longing for some silly thing that I don't actually need.
The little house that I feel in love with my husband in will always hold a special place in my memory.
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