Crossword-Solution: HARDWOODS
We have 2 clues for the answer “HARDWOODS”
| Clue | Answers |
|---|---|
| BEECH ___ | 10 answers |
| BEECH tree | 14 answers |
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Dermatological complaint
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Hint 1 meaning
An inflammatory disease of the skin, characterized by the
presence of redness and itching, an eruption of small vesicles, and the
discharge of a watery exudation, which often dries up, leaving the skin
covered with crusts; -- called also tetter, milk crust, and salt rheum.
Hint 2 anagram
EMCZEA
Hint 3 another clue
eruption
12 +1
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Sentences with HARDWOODS (5)
The large reserves of tropical hardwoods, not fully exploited, support an expanding sawmill industry that provides sawn logs for export.
The large reserves of tropical hardwoods, not fully exploited, support an expanding sawmill industry which provides sawn logs for export.
East of the Mississippi, the pioneers had taken possession of the hardwoods of the Ohio, but over the prairies between them and the Great Lakes the wild flowers and grasses grew rank and undisturbed.
Robert rested his chin on his hand and looked across the vales and hills, where the feathery gray of leafless hardwoods was mingled with the sturdy, unfailing green of the conebearers.
Everywhere the smaller ships were gathering the products of the great Amazon basin-rubber, cocoanuts, hardwoods, dyewoods, pelts, tropical fruits and other commodities.
Quotes with HARDWOODS (3)
It looked as though the leaves of the autumn forest had taken flight, and were pouring down the valley like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, all the leaves of the hardwoods from here to Hudson’s Bay. It was as if the season’s colors were draining away like lifeblood, as if the year were molting and shedding. The year was rolling down, and a vital curve had been reached, the tilt that gives way to headlong rush. And when the monarch butterflies had passed and were gone, the ski…
On a Wednesday morning in mid-June, Eli Sharpe was sitting at his desk treating jetlag with strong coffee when he heard a knock on his apartment door. After a second, more insistent knock, he added a dash of George Dickel to his Folgers and hid the pint in a desk drawer. “It’s open,” he said loudly and stood up to receive his visitor. In walked a tall blonde, her high heels stabbing the scuffed- up hardwoods, her perfume battling the smell of coffee and dust permeating Eli’s …
I do mourn my characters. I wrote an essay once where I was sure that far back in a marsh there was a hummock - a little hill of hardwoods - and an old farm house, where all the heroines in my novels lived together with all my beloved dead dogs. I've discussed this with my therapist, naturally. He says it's okay in fair amounts.