When you spot a powder blue, 10-foot-long mobile flower truck on the D.C. streets, there’s only one way to react. You squeal.

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” a brunette woman exclaimed on a recent Saturday morning, tugging her friend to stop in front of Blue Ribbon Floral, a new addition to the city’s mobile-vending scene. Ali Chrisler, the owner, sat cross-legged in the back of the tiny truck, underneath a custom-made black- and white-striped awning. She was surrounded by flowers: mustard-colored Billy buttons; calla lilies the shade of eggplant; fuchsia roses; striking pincushion protea. Spider mums, thistle, baby’s breath. Silver dollars and wax flowers.

“Good morning! How are you?” Chrisler chirped, breaking into a grin when her customer responded that she was doing much better now, thanks.

Lest one assume that women have the monopoly on cute flower truck-induced enthusiasm, plenty of men stopped by during the four hours Chrisler spent on 18^th Street in Adams Morgan. A pair of college guys geeked out over the truck before buying a flower each; Chrisler thrilled them with details about its three-cylinder engine. “It’s like a smart truck,” the one with the shoulder-length curls remarked. “I’m kind of in love with it.”

Chrisler, 34, who lives in Mount Pleasant, is a third-generation florist: She grew up in a tiny rural town in Wisconsin, and both her mom and grandmother had flower shops. Flowers were a constant and joyful part of her life. “We always used to kid that whenever my mom was whistling, it was because she was doing flowers, because that was the happiest she was,” she recalls.

Still, Chrisler took a circuitous route into the family business. She has a PhD in human development and family studies, with a focus on why parents react the way they do when their kids come out as lesbian, gay, or bisexual. She previously worked at a nonprofit in the District. “And then in July, I had a miscarriage, and it absolutely threw me for a loop,” she says. Her obstetrician cleared her to start trying to get pregnant again, “But I told my husband, ‘there is no way I am remotely ready.’ So what most people do is, they busy themselves with something.”

Flowers were a natural fit. Since brick-and-mortars can be financially prohibitive, going mobile made sense. Roving flower shops are popular overseas and in the south; in states like Tennessee and Florida, for example, it’s not unusual to see large, vintage Volkswagen trucks peddling flowers. Chrisler preferred to be more compact. She bought her truck online, sight unseen—it’s an import, with the driver’s seat on the right—and soon, it arrived from Miami. In its previous life, the 1992 Honda was white, and Chrisler says the company she hired to paint it wondered if perhaps it ought to stay that way. She reassured the staff that, yes, she definitely wanted that shade of blue.

In September, Chrisler left her full-time job to focus on Blue Ribbon Floral—a name that blends her mom’s shop, Rainbow Floral, with her grandmother’s, Blue Ribbon Bouquets. She had a soft launch for friends and family in November, and officially hit the streets in January. In addition to mobile vending, she does flowers for weddings and special events throughout the region. She also collaborates with local businesses; on Thursday and Friday, for example, she’s doing a pop up at The Chocolate House DC.

Chrisler takes the truck out two or three days a week; her schedule largely depends on the weather. Rain and heavy wind are both deal-breakers. She’s trying lots of neighborhoods to get a feel for which work best and shares her location on Instagram.

Chrisler gets her flowers from a wholesaler in Silver Spring, opting for a mix of what’s in season, what’s hearty (read: hard to kill), and what looks best together. Sometimes—especially on weekdays, when people tend to be in a hurry—she offers pre-arranged bouquets. But more often, it’s BYOB: build your own bouquet, and just one stem is fine. “People really enjoy that,” she says. “Some have taken floral arranging classes, and some just want to buy a single spider mum for $3.” Prices at the truck range from $2 dollars for greens to $3-$5 per flower (some are more expensive, like the pincushion protea, which sells for $13 per stem).

By 11:30 a.m. on Saturday, about 90 minutes into her stay on 18^th Street, a dozen people had stopped to admire Chrisler’s offerings—or her wheels. “The tires!” one 20-something gushed. “They’re so … adorable.” Chrisler greeted each customer with pep, explaining the difference between Billy buttons and calla lilies and dispensing care-and-feeding advice. (Trim the stems; give the bouquet a good drink.) She’s as smitten with her new endeavor as the people on the street appear to be. It’s a fun, exciting creative outlet, and a good challenge. Plus really cute.

“I knew I wanted to do something different, but I wasn’t sure what that was until I fell upon the mobile flower trucks,” she says. “People often say, ‘That’s so brave! You took the experience of having a miscarriage and made this into your own baby.’ But it takes going through certain experiences to think, what am I really doing with my life? I told a friend that starting this was scary—and she said, ‘That’s how you know you’re doing the right thing.’”